Socially Acceptable Options
by honeyandvodka
Summary: Katherine Beckett had options. Lots of options. Socially acceptable options. So when her mom's murderer was caught, Kate shelved her plans of becoming a cop, intent on living as ordinary a life as possible. But is normal enough? Meeting Richard Castle might be just the thing to change everything for both of them. #CastleFicathon
1. Chapter 1

**April 2009**

Her heart was pounding in her chest as her eyes darted around the cafe, and, satisfied that she was the first one to arrive, she let one of the waiters direct her to the back of the room with a nod of his head. She stepped past the free end of a long, communal style table, watching and waiting with narrowed eyes as a couple vacated the smaller table behind it. She slid into the chair against the wall with an impatient huff, the front door now in her line of sight.

The menu, folded beneath the sugar bowl, peeked out, and she tugged at it with shaky hands, bringing it into her field of vision. She clenched her fists in an attempt to steady herself as her gaze swept over the page; varieties of coffee and tea were listed one after the other, and the choices were overwhelming.

Her gaze snapped up as a shadow fell across the table, the face smiling down at her shocking in its familiarity.

"Hey!"

He beamed at her as he took the seat opposite her, his grin lighting up the room and she swallowed. This was nothing like the last time they'd met; she'd been just one anonymous girl in a room of many, waiting impatiently in line in a midtown bookstore, her hands gripping the latest of his bestsellers.

But alone with him in one of Tribeca's trendiest cafes?

That was intimidating.

He offered his hand, and she took it, putting a little more force than necessary into the handshake in an attempt to override her nerves.

She wasn't freaking out.

Absolutely not. This was normal. Completely and utterly normal; taking a phone call from a famous author in the middle of the day and meeting him for coffee three hours later was nothing out of the ordinary.

She shook her head slightly, her lips curving up in a smile of their own.

Like hell this was normal.

"Katherine Beckett?" he asked, confirming her identity, the hint of laughter playing at the corner of his mouth, and she nodded, her hand still firmly ensconced in his warm grasp.

"No," she said, aware she was still nodding like an idiot. "Yes, but, I mean- no. It's Kate. Kate Parker, now."

"Rick Castle." His eyes widened as he took her in, releasing her hand at last. "I know you!" The exclamation was one of accomplishment, his face the picture of pride, his eyes piercing and clear. "I've seen you before!"

It was all Kate could do to stay upright, her concentration diverting from his face to her own lap as she focused on remaining seated in her chair. He remembered her? From a book reading? But it had been years since she'd sneaked away to one of his signings.

"Yeah," he continued, his gaze still on her, his lips parting slightly as he studied her. "I fell in love with you on the subway one time!"

Well. That was different.

Different and creepy.

* * *

"You what?"

It was totally her, wasn't it? Rick narrowed his eyes, staring into her hazel ones. The face was the same, he was sure of that; beautiful eyes hidden beneath lashings of eye make-up, full, soft lips that would curve into a sweet smile. Then again, he'd fallen in love with so many random women across New York; five seconds of wonder, before the moment was gone, and the woman in question was swallowed up in the anonymity of the city.

Those who stuck with him got a line in a book, usually; that was how he remembered them. Katherine Beckett - or Kate Parker, if that's who she was now - had caught his attention and he'd grabbed his notebook, scrawling down a few words that would immortalize her in one of the Storm books.

She'd become _Karen_, one of _Derrick Storm__'s_ associates, a bit player who - to anyone other than Rick - was nothing more than a plot device; a dark haired woman whose shimmering tears had echoed in _Storm__'s_ memory.

Certainly Kate would never recognize herself as the inspiration. If his _Karen_ really was Kate Parker? Well if she was... he mentally congratulated himself for choosing a name so similar to his inspiration.

"I don't know if you know who I am-"

He ran a quick hand through his hair, as he rushed to explain.

"I write. I wrote you. I mean- it might not have been you, I get that-"

Kate's eyes were wide now, her hands folded together as she leaned back, her spine as stiff as a rod, looking for all the world like a deer in headlights, ready to flee, skittish at any moment.

"And you just- if it was you- I know it's a long shot- you really caught my attention that day. You have beautiful eyes, you know." He frowned, doing the math. _Karen_ had appeared in which _Storm_ book? "It would have been in the middle of 2005. You were crying, but you looked really happy, you know? You kept looking down at whatever was in your purse, and it was making you smile."

Was it her? He really didn't know. On the one hand, it was a one in a million chance, but on the other hand, wasn't that what life was all about? A series of coincidences, twists, and turns that brought individuals to their fate, no matter the roundabout paths it took to get there?

She leaned forward, a lock of her chin length hair falling free. It was her. It had to be. He tapped his fingers across his thigh, tensing as he resisted the urge to push the hair back from her face and out of her eyes, surprised at the impulse.

"It wasn't me," she mumbled at last, her eyes dropping to the menu in front of her. She was giving the distinct impression of someone who was forced into a situation she didn't want to be in, and he shook his head in apology. "Thousands of people ride the subway at any given moment."

"My name's Adam, and I'll be your waiter today." The interruption was a welcome relief and Rick grinned at the man. "What can I get for you?"

"Kate?" Rick asked, gesturing to her, and she glanced again at the menu, one finger making its way to her mouth as she decided.

"Earl Grey tea," she said at last, and he raised an eyebrow; she was obviously nervous and from the expression on her face, her mind was running a mile a minute. He'd definitely picked her for a coffee drinker.

"Cappuccino for me, please," he said, his attention back on the woman in front of him.

"So what can I do for you, Mr. Castle?" she asked, and his forehead creased, dismayed to see that her eyes had clouded over and she appeared to be bracing herself.

"Rick," he insisted. "I've been working with the NYPD-"

"You work for the NYPD? Aren't you an author?" Her voice had the practiced coolness of someone used to dismissing stupid ideas and he shook his head; he needed her to hear him out.

"I _consult _with the NYPD," he corrected; if he was lucky she wouldn't ask how long, exactly, he'd been 'consulting' with the police. He doubted she'd be impressed when he told her he'd spent a handful of afternoons at the Twelfth precinct pouring over old cases. "And yes." He straightened, pride that she did, in fact, know who he was touching something inside him. "I am an author."

"And you killed _Derrick Storm_?"

"What?" He held a hand up, his mouth falling open. There was only one logical explanation for how she would have known that - she was a fan, and a serious one at that. "Why, Kate Parker, do you read my books?"

* * *

She was saved from answering when their waited unceremoniously dumped their order in front of them, and she plucked a napkin from behind the sugar bowl in irritation, wiping at the table where Rick's cappuccino had sloshed over the edge of his cup. For all its hip vibe and specialty blends of coffee, apparently it was asking too much of the waiters to carry a simple cup of coffee.

"Hmm."

"What?"

The snap in her voice was a little colder than she would have liked, but they'd been sitting here for ten minutes now and she was none the wiser as to why he called her just after lunch, insisting that he needed to interview her. She was none the wiser as to why she agreed, either, except that was a lie that she couldn't quite feed herself, and she snatched the napkin away, crumpling it in her hand and discarding it on top of the menu.

She was never going to say no to this meeting.

Not when Richard Castle was on the other end of the line, rambling about case files and research.

She worked on breathing - in and out - because come on, Kate, it was just oxygen and your lungs know how to do this. It wasn't like sharing this space with her favorite author should have any kind of effect on her.

"You must be a fan, if you know that, since the book hasn't come out yet." He smirked, and she found herself wanting to bridge the distance between them and wipe the smile off his face. She swallowed. No. No, there would be no bridging of the distance, metaphorically or otherwise. Just because he was the very picture of attractive, there was no reason to let her mind run away with her.

"I've read a couple of your books," she conceded, pouring her tea slowly and deliberately. "I'm more a fan of the genre."

"Uh-huh." A smile played on his lips and she shrugged. So she hadn't fooled him. Well, it wasn't quite time to give up her identity on his fan site just yet.

"So what can I do for you… Rick?" She glanced at her wrist-watch in a not so subtle attempt to let him know she didn't have all day.

"Busy day?" he asked, and she frowned. She didn't need to get back to the office this afternoon, but he didn't need to know that. Besides, the sooner she got home, the sooner she could make a start on the advice that was due tomorrow.

"Aren't they all?"

"So… what do you do?"

"I'm a lawyer." She raised the tea cup to her lips.

"Awesome. What area do you practice in?"

She swallowed, the warm beverage sliding down her throat. "Corporate."

"Huh."

"What?"

"I thought- I don't know. You're not what I expected."

"You just met me. How could you expect anything?"

He leaned back, settling into his chair and placing his cappuccino back in its saucer. A smudge of foam decorated his upper lip and she nodded at him, bringing her own index finger to her lip to let him know.

"Oh. Uh- right."

Rick reached for another napkin, wiping the milk from his mouth, and she found herself staring a second longer than necessary, her eyes flitting to his mouth of their own volition. The book jackets and promotional photoshoots from his fan site really didn't do him justice, and she didn't think he'd aged a day since she'd last been to one of his book signing events. His dark blue shirt fit in all the right ways, and she found herself wishing the day was a little warmer because she wanted to know just what those arms looked like beneath his shirt… no! She snapped her eyes back up to his face and sighed, brushing the hair out of her eyes.

If only she could say the same for herself, but too many late nights and early mornings were taking their toll; she'd dashed into the restrooms at work and smeared another layer of concealer over the dark circles under her eyes before grabbing her purse and jumping in a cab to come here.

"So like I said, I'm working - consulting, really - with the NYPD at the moment. I helped them close a case a few weeks ago and offered to give them a hand-"

"Mmm-hmm."

"And so I was going through a few of their older files, and I came across your mother's case-"

"And you thought you'd call me up, expose old wounds?" Kate couldn't quite manage to keep the bitterness out of her voice, and he lifted his hands in protest.

"No. Not at all. But I saw your mother's case and it made me curious. Most of my books are in the moment, and I want to go deeper. I want to know what makes people tick, and I want to know how they move on after an event like that in their lives."

* * *

"The last thing I want to do is bring up old hurt. But I just had this idea and - as you rightly pointed out - I did in fact kill off Derrick Storm. So I'm… between projects, I guess you could say."

"Between projects? Is that code for writer's block?"

He chuckled; she may not have been what he was expecting - Kate Parker was not exactly the superhero he'd dreamed up in his head on the cab ride over - but she was no shrinking violet either, and the bite to her words was so obviously a mask of some kind. It was all he could do to not reach over and shake her, demand to know what she was so afraid of him seeing.

"I don't believe in writer's block," he defended. "But this is a good opportunity for me to dig a little deeper. Investigate the human psyche."

"And how did you choose me, exactly?"

He reached for the sugar bowl, stirring a spoonful into his coffee. "I told you. I was going through files at the Twelfth. I came across your mom's and it was all just so… senseless, you know? A random gang killing gone wrong? When I write-"

"Senseless. You think?"

"Yeah. Well. When I write… there are always reasons. Nefarious plots, and so on-"

"Nefarious- you mean ridiculous, right?" Her eyes darkened as she glared at him, and he chuckled.

"Told you that you were a fan." He grinned. Kate was… different.

She rolled her eyes, and his mouth fell open; she may have been mad, but he didn't think she had a clue just how sexy she was. Sexy? He shook his head, his eyes dropping to the thin gold band on her ring finger. No. Not sexy. Off limits. And an interview subject, more to the point.

Usually when he was confronted with a beautiful woman it was easy to find the right words to make her smile. Or the right words to get into her pants.

With Kate it most definitely had to be the first and he found himself wanting to make her smile; if she was married he wasn't going to be an asshole - hot as she was - but if a little lighthearted flirting could bring a smile to that mouth of hers...

"I know who you are," she retorted. "I wouldn't have agreed to meet you if I didn't."

"I just… had this image of you in my head, okay? I was looking at the files this morning, and I thought, a girl like that - my daughter is just fourteen, and the idea of her ever going through what you must have gone through…" He shuddered, the shiver running like ice down his spine. "I thought you would have to come away from it changed. And I started to wonder what you were doing with your life."

He shrugged. This whole thing was stupid. Kate Parker was hardly the woman he'd imagined her to be. She wasn't some cop bringing justice to people like herself, and she wasn't a social worker working from the ground up. She was an ordinary corporate lawyer hiding behind her business suit and long hours, living an ordinary life.

* * *

What was she doing with her life?

What was she supposed to tell him? That she hadn't spoken to her father in months? That every time she saw him he seemed to have fallen further into an alcohol fueled void? That she was failing as a daughter? That she was cramming full time hours into a part time job and that she didn't know the last time she'd spent an entire day with her daughter without one of the partners from her firm calling her and throwing another deadline her way? That she barely spoke to her husband? That she'd made vows to a man who was now nothing more than a roommate, someone she made small-talk with over dinner every couple of weeks when their paths crossed?

She could almost see the disappointment in Rick Castle's eyes as he evaluated her, his piercing stare getting a read on her as she sat there, silent. She wanted to protest, cry out that she was extraordinary; she wanted to be able to stand proud, tell this man in front of her that she had fought, that she was making her life count.

She wanted to be able to tell her mom that, too.

The protest died on her lips though.

"I'm just ordinary," she told him, her voice low as she made the confession.

All those dreams she'd had? Long gone.

But this was what she'd wanted, wasn't it? To be ordinary. To be normal. To be safe.

Something inside her nagged, still, and she shrugged, pushing the thought away.

Those dreams were gone.

So often she'd been tempted to drive upstate to the prison, stare into the killer's eyes - she wanted to beg for a reason - but delusions of ever being able to understand her mom's murder were useless.

The younger Kate Beckett had grown up, and she had other people to think about now. That girl on the subway - and she remembered, very distinctly, riding the subway, tears in her eyes, in July of 2005 - was gone.

The pull of day to day life, of balancing a career and marriage and parenthood had forced her to reevaluate.

Ordinary was enough.

It had to be.

* * *

**A/N: Welcome to my Ficathon 2014 entry. I was prompted to write dark… as you see, this isn't _dark_ dark, per se, but it's a challenge for me. It's also a massive challange for me to write this a chapter at a time and publish as I go, it's been a while since I did that. I hope you enjoy where I take this version of Caskett. Kylie has been a super-beta, thank you, and thank you to my girls for the chats! **


	2. Chapter 2

**April 2009**

Ordinary had to be enough.

Kate Parker raised her eyes heavenward as she tried to wrestle back control of the conversation.

"I'm just normal," she told Richard Castle. "Sorry to disappoint you. I'm hardly a superhero working toward some goal of world peace or social justice."

"I'm-" he started, but she cut him off.

"I can't bring my mom back, and I can't make it right. Some random guy happened across her in an alley one evening, and there's nothing more to it. Wrong time. Wrong place. Washington Heights can be a dangerous place."

She shrugged, pouring the last of the tea into her cup and staring across the cafe in stony silence. A line had formed at the counter while they'd been sitting and talking; twenty-somethings and college students looking for the reprieve of a mid-afternoon caffeine hit before they rushed headlong back into life in the city. At the front of the line a tall brunette - all of eighteen or nineteen - leaned into her boyfriend, her hand in his back pocket as he made their order.

Was that what it was to be free?

At nineteen, Kate had had the world at her feet, too. She'd had college, dreams, and a long line of unsuitable boyfriends, eligible only for their ability to mess with her parents. None of them had been keepers; the half dozen boys she'd dated from the age of sixteen had been nothing more than brief amusement on her way to the top, and young Katie Beckett was going to stop at nothing.

First female Chief Justice.

Why the hell not?

She'd believed she could do it, and what's more, her parents had believed in her too.

"Are you still in your wild-child phase, Katie?" her mom would ask her during their phone calls in her freshman year at Stanford, and Kate would shrug impatiently.

"It's not a phase," she'd insist, and her mom would laugh.

"One of these days you'll be past it and I'm going to tell you I told you so." The scolding tone was feigned, and Kate would grin as she ended the call.

But her mom never had the chance to tell her so, because before Kate was willing to admit that she was outgrowing her wild child phase, her mom had died, and everything had changed.

**May 1999**

"I'm still not going back to Stanford." Kate sighed as she stared across the table at her father. He was smaller, somehow, seated at the end in his usual place but without his wife beside him.

Deciding to leave California had been easy. Or, if not easy, per se, it certainly hadn't presented itself as a choice. It had been more like a foregone conclusion.

A semester off had seemed like the best way to ease back into life; she'd pulled out of Stanford in the good faith that she'd be returning there next fall. A semester abroad and summer school would be enough to make up her credits and she would graduate at the end of her college degree, enroll in Law School, and continue her education until she was a lawyer, just like her parents.

Leaving California had been easy, but returning to New York had been hell.

"You're not still holding onto that crazy idea of yours are you?"

Her mother's colleagues had dropped off all of her paperwork and Kate had thumbed through page after page of files. Until January, she'd assumed her mother's work was noble; fighting injustice. But it had sickened her to realize that the very people her mother had defended were the kind of people who had sliced into her in that alley way; gang members and mafia, common criminals and petty thieves.

"No." Kate dropped her eyes, her finger tracing the patterns in the familiar hardwood as she grasped at straws. "No. There's no point."

Becoming a cop? It had seemed like the right idea when Johanna's killer was still out there, but now it seemed like a hasty reaction borne of uncertainty and emotion.

"Good." Jim nodded, but his eyes were clouded, unfocused, and he stared at the wall behind her head rather than directly at her. "It's too dangerous. Just go to college, get your law degree. Do what you were going to do, and put this all behind you. Forget about it, and get on with your life."

"Forget about her?" Kate's eyes narrowed as she glared at her father.

"No, Katie. Not about her. But about the way it all ended."

"Can you forget?" she asked, and he shook his head, his hand wrapping around his glass of scotch and bringing it to his lips.

"No. But the worst is behind us," he promised her, his voice thin, and she shrugged.

"It doesn't feel like it."

"You heard the detective yesterday. They got a confession. It's done, Kate." He stood up, his movement unstable as he pushed the chair back. She watched as he made his way through the open door, grabbing at the frame to steady himself as he walked into the living room, and she frowned at the scotch bottle still open on the table.

Done.

It was done.

Why be a cop? Why fight? Kate stood too, her gait sluggish as she trudged back to her girlhood bedroom. The purple walls mocked her with their optimism as she shuffled through the papers on her desk. Her withdrawal from Stanford was complete, and her application for NYU was all set to go. She'd send it in tomorrow, and classes would start in the fall.

Pre-law. It had been enough for her in California.

It would be enough for her in New York.

**April 2009**

"I never meant to insinuate that there was some... particular way you should be."

Rick frowned. This was all wrong. He'd come here to interview her, to get his head around the tragedy she'd gone through. Pouring over case files in the workroom at the Twelfth had seemed so noble, and it had been an awesome excuse to avoid answering Gina's calls.

He'd obviously made a mistake.

"Why are you here, Rick?" Her voice was heavy, world-weary, and he shook his head.

"I'm sorry. I really- I just wanted to ask you a few questions about… your life. And about your mother. I just wanted… ideas."

"Ideas? That's what my life is for you?" Kate's eyes flashed with annoyance, and he sat up straighter at the first sign of real passion she'd displayed since he'd walked into the cafe. "A macabre tour of tragedy, a brave young woman rising above the ashes? Is that what you really wanted? Or were you just bored?"

**March 2009**

"You're a hard man to find, Mr. Castle."

Rick raised his eyebrows at the detectives opposite him. "I am?"

"We went to your apartment and your mother couldn't tell us where you were."

"Well-"

"Is that right?" Detective Esposito smirked at the fairer man beside him. "World famous author lives with his mom?"

"Hey! I'll have you know _she_ lives with _me_! And my daughter!"

It hadn't been his fault he wasn't home when they stopped by. No. If it had been up to him he would have been home all morning, and all afternoon. It was only after Alexis had threatened to cancel their standing laser tag date if he didn't go out and get some fresh air - in her words "stop moping around just because _Derrick Storm_ is dead" - and a little perspective. The two detectives exchanged another glance, and Rick had the uncomfortable feeling they were messing with him.

"So. You've got quite a rap sheet for a best-selling author. Disorderly conduct, resisting arrest." Detective Ryan chuckled, throwing the file back onto the table before leaning back in his chair.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. But-"

"Bro! You stole a police horse?"

Rick blinked. If anything, Esposito looked mildly impressed, and he shrugged.

"Borrowed."

"Says here he was nude at the time," Ryan pointed out, and a look of disgust rolled across Esposito's features.

"What, exactly, am I here for?" Rick interjected before they could pass any further comment on his springtime activities, and the men exchanged a look, leaning in, the smiles gone from their faces.

Ryan pushed a photograph across the table.

"Alison Tisdale," Esposito informed him. "Daughter of real estate mogul, Jonathan Tisdale."

"She's cute."

"And dead." Ryan shrugged.

"And you-" Rick frowned. "What do you want with me?"

"This-" Esposito tossed another picture his way, "is how she was found."

Rick's eyes widened. "Flowers For Your Grave."

"Mm-hmm." Ryan nodded. "It took us a while to work it all out. Not too many cops like to read crime novels in their spare time. So we didn't pick up the connection until yesterday."

"How long's she been dead?"

"About two weeks." Ryan shrugged, sliding the photograph back into the envelope. "Relax. We know you were at your book launch party the night it happened, we've already had several people vouch for you."

"Yeah, your mother and your ex-wife were both happy to do so."

"Gina was happy to…" Rick trailed off. Okay then. If Gina had been happy to vouch for him he supposed he shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Then again, it was in her interests that he not be accused of murder. He shrugged. At least they wouldn't be able to badger him about writer's block if he was behind bars, but it might put a dampener on playing laser tag with his daughter.

"So… what do you want with me if I'm not a suspect?"

"You're still a person of interest," Ryan informed him. "And, as such, we'd like your input."

"On that, and these," Esposito clarified, laying two more crime scene photographs onto the table.

Rick's jaw dropped open. "Hell Hath No Fury, and Death of a Prom Queen."

"Apparently."

"Do I-" he looked up at the two men in awe. "Do I have a _fan_?"

"A messed up fan, yeah."

"Huh." Rick nodded, taking the picture and looking at it closely. Yeah. Okay. He could work with this. "The dress is meant to be blue, you know."

"What?"

"The picture- the dress. It's the wrong color. It's meant to be blue. Either this fan of mine is seriously color blind, or it's all a set-up. So what's our next move?"

"_Our_ next move?" Esposito raised an eyebrow, and Rick shrugged.

"I'm between books right now." He grinned. This was perfect. If he was helping the police Gina would have to get off his back about the next book. There was no way she could chase him down here. And if this took a couple of days to solve, so much the better. Besides, who knew what inspiration would come his way if he spent enough time with homicide cops. "I can help you solve this!"

**April 2009**

"I thought I could help." Rick lifted a shoulder in resignation. "Not… you. Not specifically. I just- when the detectives at the Twelfth brought me in, I figured I could be part of something bigger."

"And just how did my mom's file end up on your desk?"

Rick leaned back, relaxing. She looked calmer now, her eyes no longer flashing with rage. "I had a copycat," he started, repressing his grin. Kate probably wouldn't be impressed by the details; she didn't need to know he'd stolen crime scene photos to share at his poker game. "And then I spent some time at the precinct, and they asked me to file a few things, so I was down in records with one of the detectives, and we got talking."

He chuckled to himself. She also didn't need to know that he'd pestered Ryan relentlessly for three days before he'd been allowed to even go down to the archives, and he'd bribed both Ryan and Esposito with Knicks tickets in order to get them to select some of the more interesting files for him to go through.

She nodded, sinking back into her chair and looking around. "Are you hungry?" he asked when he saw her gaze pause on the chalkboard menu above the barista and she nodded.

"I could eat," she admitted, and he beckoned to their waiter.

"What can I get you?"

"Uh- a chicken wrap, please,"

"Make that two," Rick added, and their waiter nodded, disappearing back behind the counter.

"So you worked with the NYPD?" She sounded curious in spite of her earlier animosity and Rick smiled. Maybe she was going to let him in after all. "What's that like?"

"It's kind of cool," he told her. "I mean some of it's so… old school. You know how on TV shows they have all this cutting edge technology? Well it's not really like that. They have white boards. And facial recognition for missing persons? It's just a book that you have to flip through yourself. And if you don't skip the line-" He grimaced. "Do you know how long you have to wait for prints to get processed?"

"So should I expect your next book to be a little more factual than your last one?"

"Well-"

"Or let me guess- you're turning to non-fiction?"

Huh. Beneath her icy exterior, Kate actually had a sense of humor. "Doesn't seem likely," he admitted, and she shot him a sideways look. Well. If he wasn't mistaken, she was actually beginning to enjoy herself a little.

"Here you go." Their waiter slammed their sandwiches in front of them before hurrying away, and Rick chuckled.

"Don't think I'll be tipping very much," he whispered, and Kate's lips curled up in the smallest of smiles as she leaned forward, cutting her wrap in half.

"No," she agreed. "But it's a nice place."

"Mmm, I like it," Rick said, looking around the room. The black and white prints contrasted with the rich color on the walls, and the worn wooden tables and benches gave the cafe a gravity.

"You've come here before?"

He shook his head. "They have another one in midtown that I go to sometimes."

"Do you write there?" Now she sounded genuinely curious, and Rick bit into his own wrap to hide his grin.

"Mostly I write at home, but I wrote in a bar before I had my daughter."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mmm. It was a cool bar, too. Maybe you know it- I mean you grew up in Manhattan, right?"

"And we're back to asking me questions." The wary edge was back in her voice, but Rick pushed on.

"Just wondering. I mean, you're not Bridge and Tunnel - no trace of the boroughs when you talk, so that means Manhattan. And you're a lawyer, which is exactly what I would have picked for you, and that usually means money."

He frowned, trying to work it out, and she shifted in her chair, her eyebrows drawing together suspiciously, the haunted look returning to her eyes.

"But- corporate law. Socially acceptable, sure. But it's still kind of surprising, to be honest. I would have expected someone like you to be a little more individual. Environmental? Or defense lawyer, maybe?"

"Defense lawyer? Really?" Kate put her sandwich down, the fire back in her eyes as she stood up, her chair scraping the floor with a sharp screech that had the group at the long table turn and look. "After what happened to my mom?"

"I-"

She threw him one more look - hurt and anger all rolled up in one - and snatched up her purse, pulling a few bills from it and placing them on the table before stalking out without another word.

"I'm… sorry?"

* * *

**A/N: Thanks everyone for the kind words so far! And a big thank you to Kylie and Jamie, betas-extraordinaire. And best of luck to everyone else who is ficathon-ing this hiatus!**


	3. Chapter 3

**April 2009**

Letting the door slam behind her provided a split second of catharsis before the cry of "Mommy!" and the thudding sound of small feet running across the floorboards sent a flush of guilt through her veins. She should have come straight home no matter how deeply Rick's unexpected line of questioning had pierced her heart.

"Hey, Sweetheart," Kate said as her three year old latched on, squeezing tightly, and she bent down to pick her up. "What are you doing?"

"Spaghetti!" came the gleeful reply, her face buried in Kate's neck for a second before she struggled to be let down.

"Hmm. I see that." She set Ramona back on the floor, watching as she careened down the hall before kicking her heels off and glancing in the hall mirror.

She rolled her eyes as she dabbed at the spaghetti sauce that had made its way onto the collar of her shirt. Served her right for coming home so late. She could have been home hours ago, changed from her crisp white button down into a more forgiving t-shirt and - more to the point - cuddled with her daughter already. She heaved a sigh at her reflection, in relief as much as anything - her eyes were clear, and Gabe wouldn't know she'd spent the better part of the afternoon crying at her mother's gravestone. She let herself take another moment, breathing in, then out, before trailing after her daughter, trudging into the kitchen.

Ramona twisted around on her stool, grinning at her mother, and Kate smiled in return, running a hand through her daughter's soft curls and nodding at her husband.

"Hey."

"Hey."

Kate frowned, taking him in as he leaned against the counter; he was good looking, she couldn't deny that. In his business suit, his tie loosened, he was the picture of confidence, an air of assurance surrounding him borne of money, connections, and entitlement. It wasn't unattractive but compared to Rick's warmth, combined with his cockiness-

"Not okay," she murmured.

No way should she be comparing Gabe and Rick. Even if Rick had pushed her buttons, confronting her as though she was a mystery, throwing down a challenge with his questions. A challenge that provoked something inside her, made her want to meet it, meet him, head on.

"What was that?" Gabe asked, and she shook her head.

"Nothing."

"Did you guys just get home?" By now he would usually have changed from his suit. Ramona should have already eaten too, but at least she had a bowl of spaghetti in front of her, and she was shoveling the pasta and meat sauce into her mouth with gusto, barely looking up at her parents.

"Yes."

Kate raised her eyebrows. Monosyllabic it was, then. Fabulous. "Okay." She crossed the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out an unopened bottle of white. "Do you want some?"

Gabe shook his head and she shrugged, reaching into the cupboard and selecting a glass.

"Where have you been?"

"Work," she lied, pouring a glass before putting the bottle back in the fridge.

"Huh."

"What?"

"Nothing." Gabe's voice had none of the hallmarks of _nothing_, and she shot a warning glance at Ramona before he could start in on her. He raised his eyebrows at her in concession, and she nodded, sipping at her wine.

"C'mon, munchkin. You look like you're done there."

Ramona nodded, holding out her empty bowl for Kate to see. "Done," she echoed, clambering down from the stool and Kate set her wine glass on the counter.

"Bath, book, and bed, okay?"

"No," Ramona retorted, but it was a response borne of habit, not a prelude to a meltdown, and Kate pressed a kiss into her hair.

"Come on," she urged her daughter, and Gabe stared at her, his expression stone. She frowned at him. "I've got it," she said, and he shrugged, striding through to the living room.

"I'll come in and say goodnight," he called over his shoulder, and she stared at his retreating back, before turning to Ramona and shooing her into the hallway toward the bathroom.

* * *

"Any particular reason you lied to me?" Gabe asked as Kate made her way back into the kitchen.

"Lied? About what?" She bit her lip as she pulled a bowl from the shelf, spooning some of the leftover spaghetti into it. Her stomach rumbled and she blinked; that chicken wrap felt like a long time ago now - the half she'd managed to eat, anyway. A glance at her watch told her it was already past eight and she shoved the food into the microwave, setting it for a minute. If she wanted to get the advice written before work in the morning she'd have to sit down with it as soon as her dinner was heated.

"About where you were. I called your work, and they told me you'd left at three."

"Oh." Kate exhaled, jabbing at the button when the beep sounded, and pulling the bowl out. "Right."

"Right."

"Sorry," she apologized. "I- had a meeting."

"A meeting? With your phone off?"

"Oh." Kate nodded, comprehension hitting her. "No. I turned it to silent." She pressed her lips together, '_so that Richard Castle couldn't bother me while I was at my mom's grave_' remaining unspoken.

"Well, while it was silent, I called you. Multiple times. As did Ramona's daycare center."

"What? Why? What happened?"

Gabe ran a hand through his hair. "Nothing happened, Kate. But I was running late and I called to ask you to get her. I left, I don't know, six voicemails? In the end I had to leave an important client meeting in order to collect her before the center closed."

Well that explained why Ramona had still been eating dinner at seven-thirty, and why Gabe was still in his work clothes. "Sorry."

"Sorry? That's all you've got?"

"What do you want me to say, Gabe? I had a meeting, you had a meeting. So what, because yours was work related it was more important than mine? It was your turn to pick Ramona up. I would never have just left her there if I'd known."

"Are you seriously going to make this about my career again?"

"Isn't it?"

"Well it sure as hell isn't about yours!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kate narrowed her eyes at him, slamming her bowl down on the counter and pushing it away; the unsettled rumbling in her belly had nothing to do with hunger anymore and everything to do with where this fight was going.

"Nothing. But I'm tracking for Partnership, and you're-"

"I'm- what? Never going to make partner- hell, I'm never even going to make associate as long as I'm working part time and balancing parenthood. But that doesn't really affect you, does it?"

"We've talked about this," he reminded her. "If you want to return to work full time, we'll put Ramona into daycare for five days."

"I want to raise my own daughter," she replied, reaching for her wine and taking a sip before sinking onto the stool Ramona had vacated.

"Fine. I'm not stopping you," he countered, his voice gentler now as he took the seat beside her. "But if you're unsatisfied with your career, you can't blame me."

"I don't."

"If you want them to take you seriously at work you have to fight for it," he continued. "You're a professional lawyer. You've worked some big deals. But you need to keep pushing if you want your career to advance."

She rolled her eyes. "Gabe, my _career_ is a dead-end. Seriously."

She bit her lip, staring across the room as silence fell.

"Do you regret Ramona?" he asked at last.

"What kind of question is that?" she demanded, her eyes snapping up to meet his in a glare. "Never. _Never_." She leaned her elbows on the counter, burying her head in her hands, her eyes closing. "Never," she whispered.

Not from the moment she'd suspected, and certainly not once she'd had confirmation; there had been no regret, and hope had morphed into full blown love from the moment she'd held the ultrasound pictures in her hands. She'd taken the subway to the sonographer's office, nervous, and she'd come home in awe, peeking into her purse to steal glances at the fuzzy black and white image as tears blurred her vision.

She leaned her head back, tears prickling at her eyes. She'd lied to Rick today when she'd said she wasn't the girl on the subway, and she was lying to her husband now. Not about Ramona - never that - but there was something stopping her from telling Gabe where she'd been this afternoon. He wouldn't understand. He wouldn't understand why she'd agreed to take the meeting in the first place - he'd scoffed at her collection of Castle novels sandwiched on the bookshelf next to her Russian literature, declaring them pulp fiction - and he most certainly wouldn't understand why she was letting Rick drag up old memories and emotions about her mom.

* * *

"Hey, kiddo!" Martha floated down the stairs, a waft of perfume trailing after her, and Rick raised a hand in greeting.

"Mother. Just in time to help me cook, I see."

"If helping you drink the wine is considered helping you cook, anytime, darling," she agreed, reaching for a glass and topping up Rick's before reaching for her own and filling it in what could only be described as a generous manner.

"Yes. By all means. 'Help' by drinking my wine." Rick raised his eyebrows at her, sliding the bottle out of her reach.

"Hmmf. Generosity is attractive in a man, don't forget." Martha raised her glass and he met it with his own. "Cheers."

Rick sipped from his before putting it down to open a can of tomatoes and pour them into the pot, stirring the ragu.

"Alexis should be home soon," he told her, the front door swinging open at his words, and he grinned.

"Hey, Dad, Grams," she called, dumping her bag at the door and making her way over to the kitchen. "Smells great."

"See." Rick nodded at his mother. "I cook, you come downstairs, she comes home from her friend's place."

"Yes, yes, it's nothing short of a superpower." Martha raised her eyebrows at him and he glared at her.

"Fine. Go ahead and mock. All I can say is that cooking my world famous gnocchi ragu never fails to bring either of you to the kitchen in time for a nice family dinner."

"Mmmhmm." Martha took another sip of her wine, and Alexis grinned.

"So, Dad, did you go to _work_ today? Or did you-" she exchanged a teasing glance with her grandmother- "do _actual_ work, and write something to get Gina off your back."

"Ha. Make fun, if you will." Rick pointed at his daughter with the wooden spoon in his hand and she took the hint, rounding the counter and stirring the sauce while he boiled the water. "I worked. I went into the precinct this morning."

"Any good cases? They didn't threaten to lock you up again did they?"

"I'll have you know they didn't. But no bodies dropped today, so I spent a little time brushing up on my paperwork skills and going through the files they've been letting me look at."

Alexis laughed, and he grinned. Esposito and Ryan didn't consider making paper airplanes to be an effective way to get paperwork done, but he could have sworn he'd seen Captain Montgomery wink, so all wasn't lost.

"And did you solve any cold cases?"

"No." Rick shook his head, pouring the gnocchi into the now boiling water. "They gave me six boxes and only one of them was an unsolved. That was interesting, actually. They had eight suspects, but all of them had airtight alibis. In the end they had to let it go."

"Mmm."

"There was a fabulous mob hit case, too. But the most interesting one was a random gang killing from 1999."

"Sounds great?" Alexis wrinkled her nose.

"Well. Not really. It was actually horrible-"

"As opposed to all the not so horrible murders?" Martha raised an eyebrow.

"As opposed to all the murders that make sense. You know. Jealous spouse, business deal gone bad, or, well, mob hits. But no. This was completely random. Just a nice woman - a defense lawyer - in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Gnocchi's ready," Alexis pointed out, nudging her father out of the way and reaching for the saucepan to drain the water.

"So I called the daughter-"

"The who?"

"The victim's daughter."

"You didn't! Oh, Richard! Why?"

"What?" He held his hands up to protest his innocence. "Well, I called the victim's husband first, but he didn't pick up, so I called the daughter, to see if I could arrange a meeting."

Alexis groaned, and he swatted at her.

"No, look. It was a long time ago. Ten years ago. I-" He sighed. "Well, I didn't mean to bring up old hurt. I just had an idea, and I wanted some input from someone who'd come face to face with random crime like that."

"And?" Martha prompted.

"And I think she hates me, but we had a coffee, and we talked a little. And I think she's a fan." He grinned, stretching past Alexis to get the bowls ready for dinner. "Help me with these, will you?" he asked, handing two of them to Martha, and he and Alexis followed her over to the table.

"So what was she like?"

Rick smiled. Hot. And- no. Married. Not hot. Married. "Nice," he said. "A little prickly, maybe. She's a corporate lawyer, and she drinks tea, and she was lovely."

"A nice lawyer who drinks tea?" Martha exchanged a glance with Alexis. "Well that doesn't sound like your usual type, so there must be something you're not telling us, if you've got that dreamy look on your face."

"What-" Rick frowned, trying to school his features. "What look?"

"The look that tells me there's something more to this story." Martha waved her hand at Rick to emphasize her point. "Mark my words," she said to Alexis, sotto voce, and Rick grimaced. "This isn't the last we've heard of this young woman."

"I can _hear_ you," Rick exclaimed. "And Kate. Her name is Kate."

Martha nodded. "Not the last we've heard of Kate, then."

"It probably will be," he said, bringing a spoonful of the ragu to his mouth, buying himself some time as he chewed and swallowed. "I think I upset her, so, unless I run into her on the subway, or she comes to a book signing if she really is a fan, I probably won't see her again."

"For that to work, you have to write another book," Alexis pointed out, her eyes dancing before dropping back to the bowl in front of her. "Which you'll do. Soon. Obviously."

"Well at least you've still got the precinct to keep you amused, right?" Martha reached over, patting his arm and offering a conspiratorial smile.

"I think it's great," Alexis chimed in, and he beamed at his daughter. She might team up with his mother all too often in an attempt to keep him grounded, but he didn't think he could love her more. "It's like a new hobby. It's good for you."

* * *

**A/N: Kylie and Jamie, your beta-ing is awesome. Mwah. And many thanks to those who took the time to review. x**


	4. Chapter 4

**April 2009**

Kate slid her wedding ring off and set it down next to the tea cup beside her computer before reaching across her desk for the hand lotion. She flipped the cap open, squirting the cream into her hands and rubbing it in, sighing as she worked it into her nails. The office air-conditioning was hell on her skin.

She twisted around in her chair to gaze across the hall, through the office opposite hers, and out the window. Working part time sure didn't get you a corner suite, or even an office with a view. No, she was resigned to her windowless office, as well as to sharing the minuscule space with the one other woman in the firm who also worked part time. But she still wasn't used to pushing her office-mate's paperwork off _her _desk each Monday morning.

The latest intern walked past, wobbling on her sky high heels as she carried a couple of coffee cups down the corridor - destined for one of the partners or senior associates, no doubt - and it was on the tip of her tongue to call after the girl, offer the unsolicited advice that she get the hell out of here before the corporate world ate her alive.

She bit down on the words before they could make it out of her mouth. Who was she to be telling someone they would never last in corporate law? Besides, some people loved it. Gabe seemed to thrive on it, approaching each new matter like he was preparing to go into combat.

Gabe. Their fight this morning had been so stupid; another example of their inability to communicate. Discussion about whether she should work an extra day - Kate was vehemently opposed, and Gabe was convinced that if she took 'control' of her career, she'd be much happier - had devolved into a stony silence which had seen Ramona throwing uncertain looks between her parents.

She shook her head, swinging her chair back to the screen, and rolled her shoulders; the claim that the chair was ergonomically sound was ludicrous. And she didn't need an extra day here, what she needed was a job where she could move about. A job where she wasn't tied to a desk. A job where - she glanced at the unfinished powerpoint on the screen in disgust - she could actually make a difference instead of playing with meaningless numbers, one big company's data, takeover offers, and bids interchangeable for the next.

She cleared her throat and shifted again. Now she sounded like Rick Castle, claiming she was destined for something greater.

She sighed, reaching for her phone, and scrolling through her contact list, her finger hovering for just a second before she punched down on the name, her eyes closing as she brought the handset to her ear.

"Katie?"

"Hey, Dad," she replied. "How are you doing?"

"Oh. Uh, not bad. How are you?"

"I'm good."

She stared across the desk at the pictures of Ramona that were tacked up. Thank goodness for her daughter. Of course, her three year old had spent all of ten minutes alone with her grandfather her whole life, and Kate shuddered. This wasn't what she wanted. Not for Ramona, and not for her father. And not for herself.

"Yeah, I'm good," she repeated, the lie bitter in her mouth. "I just wondered if you'd like to come round for dinner tomorrow? An early one maybe? Or lunch?" Lunch would be good; even if he was drinking before midday how bad could he be?

"Sure." Jim's voice shook, his uncertainty apparent in the way he drew the word out, and Kate gnawed on her lip, swallowing hard as she fought the tears that were threatening. Why did she do this to herself? Keep pushing? She blinked. It was too late to take the invitation back now.

It was too late for a lot of things.

* * *

Kate jerked her head up, her eyes snapping open, and she blinked. Falling asleep at her desk wasn't okay, and she twisted around to see if anyone in the nearby offices or cubicles had noticed.

Across from her, the door was closed, and she could see her colleague gesturing at the phone in front of him, his voice breaking past the barrier of the closed glass door as he shouted on speaker phone. Otherwise, though, the office looked deserted from this angle, and Kate stood up, stretching before reaching down to lock her screen. She needed to get out of here, get some air. And, even if the work was soul sucking, there was an advantage to employment that was judged on billable hours. As long as she kept her phone on, she could take as long a lunch as she wanted.

She pulled her purse from the desk drawer, slinging it over her shoulder and slipping out of her office. "I have some errands to run," she called across to her secretary, keeping her voice low, and Rosie glanced up, nodding before turning back to her own screen.

She could feel the weight on her shoulders lessening as she stepped into the elevator and by the time she found herself on the ground floor she was breathing more deeply, every gulp of air making its way into her lungs. By the time she crossed the lobby and exited through the revolving door onto the street she could feel the corner of her lips tug up, and she pulled her light jacket close around her, lengthening her stride until she reached the intersection.

She took her cell from her purse as she waited for the lights to change, but they flipped to green and she shoved it back into her pocket, letting herself be swept along with the surge of pedestrians hurrying around the financial district on their lunch hour. Everybody wanted to go somewhere, and Kate let herself slow her stride until she was no longer in time with the crowd around her, but ambling along at her own pace.

A glance around confirmed she'd been traveling north, and she stopped in her tracks, tilting her head to the side and biting her lip. She was in Tribeca now, a couple of blocks away from Ramona's daycare. The impulse to call her secretary, inform her she wouldn't be coming back in this afternoon surged, and she swallowed, the idea sliding back down. But why? She could swing by the daycare, collect Ramona; they could spend the rest of the day feeding the ducks in the park, or they go and get the new shoes she so desperately needed.

A pedestrian behind her jostled into her and she took a step forward to get out of his path, turning as she did so, the cafe from last week coming into her line of sight.

Oh.

She brought her thumb to her mouth as she stared at the entrance. From here she could see it was packed inside. If she picked Ramona up right now, she'd be interrupting rest time - that would do no one any favors - so if she stopped in here… Surely, even if it was crowded, she could squeeze onto the communal table, have some lunch, and decide whether or not to play hooky for the rest of the day.

* * *

"Hi! Are you eating in or getting something to go?" The waitress who approached her was all smiles without any of the attitude of last week's waiter, and Kate smiled back.

"Eating in," she replied.

"Take a seat at the back there, that little table's just opened up." She pointed Kate toward the table she'd shared with Rick last time, and Kate grinned, biting down on her lip and nodding.

"Thanks." She weaved her way past the line at the counter, sitting down in the same seat she'd chosen last time. This time, though, she couldn't see the door for the throng of people, and she leaned her head back, finding she didn't really care. Instead of feeling enclosed and ready to run, the anonymity of the crowd felt like a safety net.

"A vanilla latte and a chicken wrap, please," she requested when the waitress came back to take her order. So she wouldn't be able to sleep. At least when she was tossing and turning tonight she'd be able to blame the caffeine. It wasn't like she slept properly anyway; she may as well enjoy the buzz that came from a cup of coffee while she took an hour of respite from her day.

She leaned back in her chair, watching the swell of people around her. Was Rick holed up in the sister cafe in midtown, observing the crowds there, making notes on his laptop? Was he sipping his own coffee, working on his next novel? Or was he at the Twelfth Precinct again, helping the detectives there, spending his day making a difference in someone's life?

The waitress set the vanilla latte down on the table. "Your food won't be long," she promised with a warm smile, and Kate nodded at her, pulling her cell from her pocket and bringing up her contact list. She scrolled through, her finger hovering - she'd saved his number the moment she'd hung up from his call - before she flipped the cell shut, running her finger tip around the edge before opening it again, pressing his name and bringing the phone to her ear before she could change her mind.

"Rick Castle."

"Hey, Rick. It's Kate. From last week. I'm… how are you?"

"Kate." His voice was warm, and she smiled. Yeah. Okay. She should have done this a week ago. "I'm good. How are you?"

"Yeah, I'm good, too." She bit her lip, and glanced up, nodding at the waitress who slid a plate onto the table in front of her. "Listen. About last week. I wanted to apologize. I shouldn't have stormed out. That wasn't fair."

"No. No, I'm sorry. I pushed. I didn't think, and I got overexcited, and I pushed."

"Yeah, but I shouldn't have snapped." She shrugged. "Anyway, I just called to say sorry, and now I've done that, so I should let you get back to whatever you're doing."

He chuckled. "I wasn't really doing anything. Just about to go make some lunch."

"Oh. Me too." She bent her head down, letting her hair fall across her face. "I mean, I was just about to have lunch. I'm at that place we went to last week."

"Really?" He sounded delighted, and she grinned.

"Yeah. This time I'm actually gonna finish the chicken wrap."

He laughed.

"If you're- do you want to join me? If you have time? If it's not too far away, I mean? If you're not doing anything- you don't have to. I mean-"

"Kate." His voice broke across her rambling. "I'd love to. But do you have time to wait for me to get there? You don't have to go back to work this afternoon."

She laughed. "I think I'm playing hooky," she confided.

"Then I'll see you soon."

* * *

Her business shirt and dress pants were in sharp contrast with everyone else in the cafe. Yet she fit. She looked like she'd fit in anywhere. He stood in the doorway of the cafe for a second, gazing across the crowd before someone bumped into him and he stepped forward across the threshold, weaving his way across the room and sliding into the seat he'd had last time.

"Hey."

"Hi." She smiled at him, her eyes lidded and shy as she peeked out from beneath the sheet of hair that had fallen across her face, and he clenched his fists, stopping the instinct to sweep it out of the way.

"You do drink coffee!" he exclaimed, pointing at the latte in front of her and she nodded, pulling her lower lip between her teeth. "I knew it!"

"Yeah," she said at last. "Sometimes. I've had half a cup and I'm already wired." She rolled her eyes. "I'm a coffee lightweight these days."

"You used to drink it more?"

"Mmm-hmm." She picked up the cup, draining the last of it before setting it back down and pushing it away. "But I stopped when I got pregnant, and I never really took it up again."

"You have a kid?"

"Yeah. A daughter," she admitted, and he grinned. She'd already opened up to him more in the last two minutes than she had the entire time they'd sat here last week.

"What's her name?"

"Ramona. She's three."

"Such a cute age."

"Yeah. But the tantrums!" Kate's proud smile belied the complaint and Rick laughed.

"Yeah. I remember that. Alexis started her terrible twos and I don't think they finished until she was five and in school, to be honest. She was so stubborn."

"How old is she now?"

"She's fourteen. And I just found out she likes a boy named Owen." He groaned, and Kate laughed.

"Sounds like someone has a problem with her growing up," she teased.

"Just wait 'til Ramona's her age, you won't take it so lightly when it's your own daughter talking about boys." Small talk about their kids? Count him in. Kate's eyes were shining, and if talking about her daughter was going to bring her alive like this, he was all for it.

"Can I get you something?" The waitress smiled at them, her notepad out, pen at the ready.

"I finished my lunch already," Kate said. "But you go ahead."

"Was it as good as last week?" he asked, and she nodded. "Then I'll have a chicken wrap too, like my friend did. And a cappuccino. And another latte for her."

"I never drink this much coffee," she protested, and he grinned.

"Humor me," he retorted, and she rolled her eyes.

"A sugar free vanilla latte," she corrected, and their waitress nodded.

"Won't be long," she promised.

"So… playing hooky? What's that all about?"

"You weren't wrong, the other day, when you said corporate law was boring," she started, and he held his hand up to stop her.

"No. I'm sorry. I was way out of line."

"Yeah, you were." Her eyes were twinkling, and he grinned in spite of himself. "But you weren't wrong. It's not very exciting, and the presentation I was working on was sending me over the edge. So… long lunch. I'll go back I guess." Her shoulders slumped, and he frowned.

"You shouldn't. Not if it makes you that unhappy."

He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth; this was exactly how he'd pissed her off last week.

Kate just wrinkled her nose though. "Maybe." She glanced up, smiling at the waitress as the woman interrupted them again, this time with his food and their drinks, and Rick let his gaze linger as Kate pulled her cup toward herself, wrapping both her hands around it, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips as she stared into the coffee.

She brought it to her lips, her eyes half closing as she took a sip, exhaling as she put it back down on the table, her fingers intertwining around it. She didn't have her wedding band on today. Was that a deliberate move? Or were she and her husband just the kind of people for whom wearing their rings wasn't an ingrained habit?

He bit down into his own sandwich to stop himself from putting his foot in it again.

"So have you been writing?"

Coming from Kate, the words that he'd been hearing on repeat - from Gina, Paula, his mother, and even Alexis - were non-accusatory, just the innocent question of a friend over coffee, and he shook his head. "No. Not really. I'm looking for inspiration, but… I don't know."

"And nothing from your time at the Twelfth has inspired you?"

"Well, sort of. I mean, the cases are fascinating - I was at a scene yesterday where the victim had been shoved into her wall safe!"

"Huh. That's… weird."

"Yeah." Rick nodded, leaning in. "High society, obviously. And her wedding ring was missing." His eyes swept over Kate's left hand again, but she didn't flinch, her eyes shining with interest.

"And a body in a safe. Sounds like whoever committed the crime was trying to send a message." She leaned in toward him, her interest apparently piqued. "Have there been other similar crimes?"

He nodded in appreciation. Talking theory with Kate was way more fun than with the boys, who were constantly telling him to keep his crazy theories to himself. "The guys are looking into that."

"And-" Kate's next sentence was cut off when her cell phone shrilled, and she reached into her purse, frowning as she looked at the caller ID. "Hello?"

She pursed her lips as she listened to the person on the other end, her eyebrows drawing together.

"Okay. I'm on my way." She ended the call, looking up at Rick. "I'm sorry. That was Ramona's daycare. I have to go get her." She picked up her coffee again, draining the cup, and Rick did the same.

"I'll get the rest of my wrap to go," he said, signaling their waitress, and Kate shook her head.

"No. You should stay. Finish it here," she urged. "I just have to call work, let them know I really am playing hooky this afternoon." She dialed, and Rick paid the waitress, waving away Kate's attempt to push money toward him while she spoke to someone, a terse expression on her face, her voice low and defensive.

She relaxed again as she ended the call, sliding the cell into her purse and slinging it over her shoulder.

"Thanks, for lunch and the coffee," she said, her expression softening.

"You're welcome. Let me see you into a cab," Rick said, indicating for her to precede him out.

"It's right by my apartment, two blocks from here, I'll just walk."

"Okay." He fell into stride beside her. "So what happened?"

"Another kid bit her. Drew blood and everything. Her teacher said she was inconsolable." She lengthened her stride, and he matched it. "She's normally pretty easy going, but with everything that happened this morning…"

"What happened?" He shook his head. "No. None of my business. Sorry."

She shrugged. "Gabe and I had a fight this morning. It wound Ramona up a bit." She fell silent, and he nodded. Gabe. So that was her husband's name.

"I'm sorry," he said, as they rushed up the street, not trusting himself to say anything else, and she lifted a shoulder, dismissing it.

"It happens."

"Yeah, it does," he agreed, his mind flitting to some of the fights he'd had with Gina over the last few years of their marriage.

"So… this is it." She came to a stop, pointing at the building in front of them, and he nodded.

"Want me to wait for you?"

"Oh. Um- if you want? I might be a minute."

"I can wait."

"Okay." She smiled, her cheeks flushed from the brisk walk, and she disappeared inside the building.

* * *

He leaned against the cool brick while he waited, passing his cell phone from hand to hand. Kate was an enigma. She'd been nothing but warm and friendly. Cautious, when she'd mentioned her husband, and her work, but not guarded the way she had been last week. Instead, she'd been easy to talk to, and curious about his experience at the Twelfth.

"Say hi to Mommy's friend," he heard, and he turned around to see two sets of hazel eyes trained on him. "Ramona, this is Rick," she said, and the three year old smiled at him shyly before burying her face in her mother's leg. "Rick, meet Ramona."

"Hi, Ramona."

The girl made a muffled reply and Kate raised an eyebrow.

"Are you shy, baby girl?"

Ramona shook her head, turning and glancing at Rick again without meeting his eyes, and Kate chuckled.

"Is she okay?" he asked, and she nodded, pulling Ramona's sleeve up to show him an impressive bruise, tiny teeth marks still imprinted.

"Another three year old did that?"

"Mmm." She raised an eyebrow. "But you're okay now, aren't you, Sweetie?"

Ramona nodded, her hand clutching at Kate's with an iron grip.

"Quiet afternoon, then."

"I think we're going to curl up on the sofa and watch a movie. I live just over there." Kate pointed at an apartment building and he nodded, walking with her and Ramona - much more slowly, with the three year old in tow - across the road and to the front door.

"Thanks for calling me today," he said, when they reached her place and she smiled, leaning her head forward and hiding behind her hair. Why did she do that? Cloak her joy like that? Was being happy such an unexpected emotion for her that she had to push it back down?

"My pleasure." He watched as her hands drifted down to Ramona's head, her fingers tangling through the fine curls. "I should have called sooner. I really am sorry about last week."

"No. Don't be silly." He waved a hand, brushing her apology away. "I'm just glad you got to enjoy a coffee."

"The coffee, yeah… I may come to regret that second one when I can't sleep tonight."

"You can always call me," he offered, before freezing. She was a married woman, and no matter how pure his intentions were, he shouldn't have said that. But she just laughed, showing no indication she thought anything of it.

"Can I call you when I still can't sleep at two in the morning?" she asked, and he raised an eyebrow.

"I'm a writer. You don't ever have to worry about waking me at odd hours."

She smiled. "I'll keep that in mind. Well, thank you. That was… fun. The best afternoon I've had in a long time, actually."

"Mommy…" Ramona tugged at her leg, and she nodded, picking her daughter up and rubbing her back.

"I'd better go," she said at last, indicating to her front door with a tilt of her head, and he nodded, raising a hand in farewell before turning to go. Best afternoon in a long time, indeed.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks K & J for the beta-goodness! Reviews and kindness to this story are warming my heart. x**


	5. Chapter 5

**April 2009**

Rick walked home, the spring sunshine warm on his face. Vanilla lattes? Yes. That was much more her style than the earl grey she'd had last week. Or at least, it might be. No. It was. It had to be. She'd just been so much happier. So much lighter. And if it wasn't at least partly related to the coffee…

He glanced down at the phone in his hand. He could message her. Right now, and say… what? He shoved the cell back in his pocket, crossing with the lights at Canal Street and continuing to make his way up Broadway. He couldn't message her. Not yet. Not when - he glanced at his wristwatch - it had been all of ten minutes since he'd taken his leave.

She'd probably only just made it into her apartment. She probably wasn't even curled up on the sofa with Ramona yet. If it had been him - he'd never had to put Alexis in daycare, for which he was grateful - but if it had been him, and another child had bitten his daughter, he would have been furious. And he'd have been beelining to the nearest Disney movie in an attempt to restore calm, in the hope that his daughter would have relaxed.

He nodded to Eduardo as he swung the front door of his apartment building open, whistling as he made his way into the elevator and up to his floor, smiling as he opened the front door to the loft.

"What's put that smile on your face? Or should I say who?"

Rick pulled the door shut behind him, raising a hand in greeting at his mother. "Must you ambush me before I even make it into the apartment?"

Martha just cocked her head to the side, her eyebrows raised.

"If you must know-" he shrugged his jacket off, taking his time selecting a hanger and finding a place for it in the hall closet- "I was with Kate."

"Kate who probably hates you, Kate?"

"Well she obviously doesn't hate me." He grinned. "She called to apologize for running out on me last week."

"Sounds promising."

"It's not like that," he said, crossing the apartment to where his mother sat on the sofa. "We just had a coffee. She's… married. I met her daughter. They're watching a movie this afternoon. She's three."

"Richard-"

He shook his head, raising his hand to stop her. "I know, I know. It's not like that. I think we can be friends."

"Well, as long as her husband's okay with that."

"Seriously? You think so little of me that you think I'd… do something. Like that?"

"No, of course not." Martha's expression softened. "I just don't want to see you get hurt. I know you like to… well-" She coughed, and Rick narrowed his eyes. "I'm not judging. We're all adults here, and what you do in your free time-"

"Well this is my house," he reminded her. "So if you can avoid doing… anything here in your free time with my daughter around, I'd appreciate that."

"Oh, darling. Don't be such a prude. And I didn't mean to insinuate anything. I just meant that even though you sell books by splashing yourself around on page six, I'm your mother, and I know that look on your face. If she's married, she's not available, and, well, I don't want you to get hurt."

"I think we're just going to be friends. Besides I sell books because I'm a good writer. Not because the press follows me sometimes." He frowned.

"Richard-"

"I know, Mother." He squeezed her hand before standing and striding across to the kitchen. "Thank you for your concern."

She was wrong. It wasn't like that. Was it? After just two meetings? No. He and Kate were just friends, and if, every time he closed his eyes he saw her hazel ones staring back at him…

No. He wasn't going to go there, not even in his head. No matter what his mother thought she read in his expression. There was a line. And after Meredith - not that he ever would have anyway - he would never cross it. He scrubbed a hand across his face, clearing his mind of the images. "Coffee, Mother?"

She shook her head, and he shrugged, turning to the coffee machine to prepare one for himself, opening the pantry as he waited for the water to heat. He stood up on his tiptoes, reaching to the back of the top shelf for the selection of coffee flavorings Alexis had bought him for Christmas. Hazelnut, toffee… he shuffled through them. Vanilla. Perfect. It wasn't sugar free, but it was a start. Time to see just what it was that had put the smile on Kate's face.

He poured the coffee, squeezing in a generous amount of the syrup, and a dash of creamer, carrying the cup through to his study. In his pocket, his phone vibrated, and he put the coffee down, pressing the power button on his laptop before answering.

"Hi, Gina."

"Richard." His ex-wife sounded like she'd already made up her mind to be annoyed, and he made a face, settling down into his chair, the phone balanced between his shoulder and ear as he opened a browser window.

"What can I do for you?"

"You can try sending me a chapter."

Okay. Straight to the point. "Gina. I told you. I'll have something for you soon."

"You said that weeks ago, at the launch party," she pointed out, and he shrugged.

Could he help it if life got in the way? And if life happened to be in the form of an attractive brunette, distracting him with coffee dates-

No. Not dates. A chat over coffee. A friendly catch-up. Two friends, passing the time over a caffeinated beverage. Most definitely not dates.

"Things have changed since then."

"How?"

"I told you. I'm shadowing some NYPD detectives. Getting inspiration. The way I did when I was writing Clara Strike. I just need time." He sighed. Clara Strike had been based on someone hot, attractive, intriguing… Esposito and Ryan were great, but they didn't quite meet his requirements for muse, no matter how interesting the cases were.

"Well, I'll be calling you every day until I have a chapter in my inbox," she promised him, ending the call, and he sighed, dropping the phone onto his desk and staring at it. Marriage wasn't easy. Even when the marriage in question had ended a year ago, and the divorce was finalized. He lowered his gaze back to the laptop at last, taking a sip of his coffee.

* * *

"Is she asleep?" Gabe asked, as Kate made her way back into the living room, her glass of wine in hand. This week had been long; Ramona had been clingy since she'd brought her home from daycare early a few days ago, and she was grateful that bedtime tonight had gone smoothly.

"Out like a light."

He nodded. "Kate… we need to talk."

"If this is about work again, I don't think there's anything else to say. I don't want to work more than three days a week. Monday to Wednesday is bad enough."

He shook his head. "Not work. Not just work. Us. Everything."

She nodded, sitting down across from him, her shoulders rigid. "What is there to say?"

"Well… that's the problem, isn't it?"

She nodded, slowly, bringing the glass to her mouth and taking a sip. "I… guess?"

"What happened to us, Kate?"

"I don't know, Gabe. I have no idea what you mean."

He shrugged, his gaze fixing deliberately on the glass in her hand. "Your dad came round yesterday."

"Yeah… so?"

"So… how can you drink, when you know what he's like? Aren't you afraid you're going to end up like him?"

"How can you say that? Don't you think there's a difference between having a glass of wine to unwind in the evening, and drowning yourself in spirits before midday?" She raised a hand to stop him from interrupting her. "Which, might I point out, was not the case yesterday. He was clean. Sober. Hadn't had a drink in…" She shrugged. "Well, for a few days."

"There's a difference, yeah. And good for him… if he can go a few days." The distaste in Gabe's voice was evident, and Kate flinched. This was her father they were talking about. No matter how bad it got, he was still her dad.

"How dare you-" she started, but he waved her protest away.

"I'm not saying it's not good-" The scorn on his face told her otherwise, but she remained quiet, willing herself to stay calm as shudders of rage roared through her. "But you find too much solace in that glass of wine each night."

"And where do you propose I find solace, Gabe? In you? My husband? Because yeah, sure. Ideally, that would be nice. But we've never had that, have we? We've never been that kind of couple, leaning on each other when the going gets tough."

"Are we even a couple?" he asked, and she shrugged. She knew the answer, deep down. No. They weren't a couple. They co-existed, that was all. "I mean, we don't even wear our rings anymore." Kate glanced down, stretching her left hand before her. Like Gabe's, her finger was without its wedding band.

"Oh. I took it off the other day. At work. I meant to put it back on, but I left to get lunch, and then Ramona's daycare called, and I had to go pick her up."

He cleared his throat. "You didn't have to pick her up, Kate. She was fine. Kids bite each other. It sucks, but it happens. You know that."

"You didn't see her, Gabe. When we picked her up she was exhausted." The slip was out of her mouth before she could stop it; she froze and his eyes narrowed.

"We?"

"I was having lunch with a friend, okay?"

"What kind of friend?"

"A… friend. Just a friend. No one. It- not like that, Gabe." There was nothing to defend. She'd had lunch with a friend. The pull that was between them- no. She wasn't going to act on it. She'd met Rick to apologize, it was all completely innocent. She rolled her eyes heavenward, letting out a huff. Were they even friends? She hoped so. But it had been two days ago, and she hadn't heard from him since, so maybe that was it. Maybe-

"Are you cheating on me?"

She put her wine glass on the coffee table and leaned her head back. "Gabe… even if I wanted to cheat on you… I barely have the energy to run this household, go to work, look after Ramona and eat dinner with you occasionally. How would I even have time for someone else?"

He shrugged, not meeting her eyes, and her mouth fell open as the root of the accusation clicked into place. All the late nights at the office, all the weekends he'd ducked out at odd hours claiming important client meetings or dinners. "But you… you're having an affair, aren't you?"

He shifted, glancing around the room, his eyes falling on the wedding picture above the fireplace. A visibly pregnant Kate beamed at the camera, her hands protective around her belly, Gabe behind her, a proud smile on his face. "I-" he started, but she shook her head, her body falling forward.

"I don't think I want to know."

"I'm not," he interjected, but the protest was too slow, too clumsy off his lips, and she shrugged, folding her legs beneath her, curling in on herself in an attempt to stave off this conversation. This measured, calm, civilized conversation which belied the pounding of her heart in her chest. Was this real? Was it really happening? Did it end like this? A sedate, passionless discussion in a living room so tastefully reworked by an interior decorator Gabe had insisted was the best?

"I don't know what we're doing," she admitted, reaching for her wine glass again, and he nodded. "It's like… we used to seem so similar, when we were in law school together."

"Mmm," he agreed, meeting her eyes at last. "So what do you want to do about it?"

"We could… work on this. On us?" They couldn't. But she had to try, for Ramona, if nothing else.

He shrugged. "Maybe. But to be honest, Kate, I don't know if there's any point. This is the one of the longest conversations we've had in months. It feels like we're co-existing in this apartment, but maybe we need to take a break, get some space?"

The words settled like rocks in her stomach but even as they did so, she could sense a weight being lifted from her shoulders, the shock flushing through her veins, burning as the room swam. It was a hope and a nightmare all at once. A way out? But what then? "A break? Or… divorce?"

Gabe was silent. She pushed her wine away, her thumb finding its way into her mouth and she gnawed at her nail.

Divorce.

What would her mom have said, if she knew her daughter was getting a divorce? The answer rushed at her. If her mom had been alive she would never have married Gabe. She would never have let an unplanned pregnancy be the catalyst for settling.

If she'd had her own mother the idea of being a single mom wouldn't have held fear; not the way it had in 2005 when she'd only said yes because she couldn't imagine saying no.

"I don't want Ramona to grow up in a broken home," she mumbled, and Gabe shook his head, sympathy all over his face, a softness to his expression that she hadn't seen for years.

"Do you really think it's better for her to grow up like this?" he asked. "Do you want her to grow up thinking this is what marriage is? Because this isn't how I was raised, and I know it's not how you were raised either."

She nodded, dabbing at the tears that were forming. Her mom and dad might not have been perfect, but they'd had a good relationship. A strong relationship. Gabe was right. He shrugged and she stood. "Fine," she said, pressing her lips together and staring at him a moment longer. "Fine. If that's what you want."

She turned, unable to stomach being in here any longer, and Gabe stood too, reaching for her and closing his hand over her arm. "I'm sorry," he murmured, and she nodded, unable to look at him.

"We'll have to figure out how we're going to do this," she said, taking a deep breath and forcing her emotions down. Not now. Later. She could cry later. Not in front of him.

"We will," he agreed, and she pulled away from his grasp. "We can meet with our lawyers, work this out."

"Lawyers?" she asked, and he nodded, confusion clouding his eyes.

"Of course. I think- it's better. Keep it clean."

"Sure," she mumbled, backing away.

This was the right thing to do.

That didn't make it easy.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for the beta Kylie and Jamie. So happy so many people are interested in seeing where I take this! x**


	6. Chapter 6

**April 2009**

Kate shuffled through the papers in front of her, scanning each one before moving on to the next. It was complicated. Even for her - someone who drew up contracts, and researched deals and mergers for a living - it was still complicated. She pushed the papers away, burying her face in her hands. It was complicated because this was more personal than the client presentation she'd been working on. It was a hell of a lot more personal than anything she'd ever worked on before.

It was the ending of a marriage.

She let her fingertips massage her temple, groaning aloud in an attempt to stave off the silence in the room before standing.

The paperwork was fine.

She'd looked it over - in fact, she'd looked it over twice, as had her lawyer - so she knew it was fine.

But filing for divorce still hurt, no matter how obviously right the decision was. No matter the cold exchanges she and Gabe had had over the last twelve months, hashing out the legal details of making it official was brutal.

She heaved out another sigh, leaning over the desk and reaching for a pen, scrawling her name on the dotted lines, over and over again on each of the applicable pages, before separating the copies out and sliding each stack into an envelope. She put her own copies into the drawer, left Gabe's copies on the desk, and pressed postage stamps onto the others. One for her lawyer, and one for Gabe's.

She ran a hand through her hair, looking around the room. The walls felt like they were enclosing her, and she picked up the paperwork. Time to get these out of here.

* * *

Pushing the two thin packages into the mailbox down the street from her apartment was a challenge she hadn't expected, and she stood staring at the slot, until someone brushed past her and she came back to herself. It was time. She took a deep breath, her teeth worrying her lower lip as she watched them slide out of sight.

Sadness washed over her, tempered with… relief. And hope. She leaned her head back, tears prickling as she stared up at the cloudy sky.

Decisions had been made, and paperwork had been signed.

For the first time in years, she was free.

**May 2009**

Kate hurried downstairs to the street, unable to stand being inside any longer. In the two weeks since she'd signed all the paperwork, she'd been treading water as she balanced work and taking care of her daughter and today, at last, she'd had the chance to figure out some of the practicalities of the divorce. But walking through the apartment, making inventory of the furniture she actually wanted and browsing new places online was more draining that she'd anticipated.

She nodded at the doorman as she passed, stepping onto the sidewalk. It was only two in the afternoon. She could enjoy the rest of the day, do something for herself that she hadn't done for years. She smiled, sticking her hand out and hailing a cab.

* * *

Bypassing the children's section - a nice change of pace - Kate made her way through the library to the fiction section, the idea of borrowing something that wasn't a picture book giving her unexpected pleasure. She ran her fingers along the shelves as she browsed, nothing in particular standing out until she found herself in the _C_s, the name _Richard Castle_ leaping out at her.

Rick.

She pulled the closest book off the shelf almost by instinct, flipping through the worn pages, familiar words and phrases staring back at her, and she smiled. _Flowers For Your Grave_. How many times had she read this one?

How many times had she read this one while ignoring Gabe; his disdain for her obsession with the mystery genre, the disparaging remarks from his side of the bed as he urged her to turn out the light?

Well, it wasn't his side of the bed anymore. Since the topic of divorce had come up he'd set himself up in the guest room, and she hadn't argued the point, hadn't offered to take the spare bed and allow him the master room. In fact, she'd barely spoken to him at all, except for perfunctory remarks about their lawyers' progress.

She brushed her hand over the cover, her touch slowing down on Rick's name, and a surge of guilt shot through her veins; she hadn't spoken to him at all since the day they'd had coffee.

Sinking into the armchair at the end of the bay, she pulled her cell from her purse, scrolling through the messages he'd left. The first had come through when she'd been curled up with Ramona watching a movie - _Thank you for a wonderful afternoon_ - and the second had come through the following day. _Hope you slept okay in spite of the coffee_. She'd smiled at both, promising herself she'd get back to him.

She hadn't, though. Instead, she'd pushed down the instinct, focused only on getting through each day as she worked through the practicalities of ending a marriage. The third and last message had come through just a couple of days ago, and it was this one she stared at now. _If you ever want to get a caffeine fix, just let me know_. She smiled, finally typing out a reply.

* * *

He whistled as he stepped off the elevator, nodding at LT and Karpowski before making a beeline for Ryan and Esposito who were staring at the murder board, both silent in their contemplation.

"What've we got this fine Thursday afternoon?" he asked, clapping a hand on each of their backs, and they turned around to face him, Ryan with a grin, and Esposito with a grimace.

"Hey, Castle."

Rick wiggled his eyebrows. "Castle, huh?"

"Yeah, well." Ryan cleared his throat and Esposito frowned at his partner.

"Don't get too excited, man. It's just weird calling you by your first name when the rest of us use last names."

"I see." Rick grinned. He was one of them. He was _so_ one of them. Even if Esposito was doing his best to pretend he wasn't.

"So have you got any of your crazy theories?" Esposito asked, feigned disdain in his voice, and Rick looked at the board, taking in the details.

"He was found with cling wrap on his face?" His voice heightened an octave in excitement, and Esposito shook his head. "I wish I'd been at the scene!"

"We called, but you didn't answer," Ryan defended, and he nodded.

"I know. Thanks. I was busy."

"Oh yeah?" This time Esposito looked interested, but Rick shook his head.

"Not like that. I was just hanging out with Alexis."

"She still approve of you spending your days following us around?"

"Yeah, she-" Rick was interrupted by the buzz of his phone in his pocket. "That's probably her. She's going to let me know how she did on her physics test."

Esposito let out a low groan, but Ryan nodded along sympathetically as Rick checked his messages.

Oh. Not Alexis.

"How'd she do?" Ryan asked, and he smiled.

"Not Alexis."

"And with that grin on your face it's obviously a woman." Esposito looked torn between getting back to the case and finding out more, and Rick shrugged, punching in a reply.

"No, it's- yeah, it's a woman."

"Well obviously." Esposito let out a huff of annoyance. "Man, I hope you don't play poker, a face like yours."

"Hey! I'll have you know I'm a great poker player. With a great poker face."

"Uh-huh."

"And I'll have you know the message was from Kate."

"Who?" Ryan asked, but understanding dawned on Esposito's face.

"That chick, yeah? A bit creepy, getting sexy texts from someone you met like that, isn't it?"

"It wasn't a sexy text," he protested. "It was a… text. A normal, friendly text."

"Back up, guys, who's Kate?"

"The chick he called to interview. Because apparently-" Esposito gestured to himself and Ryan. "_We__'re_ not inspiring enough for Rick, here. He's happy to use us for our interesting cases, but he'd rather be following hot women around New York." He turned to Rick. "She was hot, wasn't she?"

"Yeah, she- that's not the point!"

"So the interview went well? Wasn't that like, a month ago?" Ryan asked.

"She's still messaging. I'll say it went well," Esposito retorted, and Ryan laughed.

"Well, what does she want?"

Rick chuckled, pulling his cell out of his pocket again as it buzzed in reply.

_Do you want to get a coffee later, or are you too busy solving crimes?_

"She doesn't want anything," he told the guys. "Just coffee." He stared at his phone for a second, tapping out a reply.

"So… you got any crazy theories or not?" Esposito asked, and he shrugged, grinning as her reply came back.

"Sorry, what?"

"Murder. Dead guy in car. Suffocation. You know, theories?"

"Oh." Rick shook his head. "Um. I'll think about it." He pointed toward the elevator. "But I think I'm going to take off for a bit. Clear my head with a, um, coffee." He shrugged in apology. "I'll come back. Later. Because I love this case. Really."

The twin looks of disgust the boys threw his way did nothing to dampen his mood, and he smiled as he raced back to the elevator. A coffee date - no, not date he reminded himself, meeting - with Kate took priority over a dead guy in a car.

* * *

"Hey." He scooted onto the bench next to her and she felt the corner of her mouth tug up.

"Hey."

"So, uh… how are you?"

"I'm…" she looked to the ceiling. What could she possibly say._ Oh, I__'m fine. By the way, I signed my divorce papers and I messaged you because I was lonely and seeing your name on your books in the library was the best I've felt all week._ No. Probably not. "I'm okay. I'm good."

"And… Ramona? Is she okay?"

"Mmmhmm. And you? And, uh- Alexis?"

"Yeah. Good. We're both good."

She cleared her throat. This was stupid. Just two friends meeting for a coffee across from the library; it didn't have to be this awkward.

"Do they come take our order here?" Rick asked, and she shook her head.

"I think you have to go up to the counter."

"Okay. I'll go up there." He stood and turned, but she called him back.

"Hey. You don't even know what I want."

He flashed her a knowing smile. "A sugar free vanilla latte," he replied, and she raised an eyebrow.

"Skim."

"Skim milk. Coming up."

She watched him make his way to the counter before reaching into her purse to look at the library book in her bag - the fact she owned a copy hadn't been enough to detract her from checking it out. Years of reading his books and now, here he was, buying her coffee? She ran her hand across the cover for the hundredth time since she'd called him before tugging the zipper closed as he approached, coffees in hand.

"For you." He pressed one of the cups into her hand, his touch lingering a moment longer than necessary before she jerked back, grateful for the lid on the hot drink as the liquid sloshed.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He tilted his head to the side as if properly taking her in for the first time. "You're different."

She laughed. "Meaning?"

"Meaning… jeans? You're not playing hooky from work today, are you?"

"No, I'm not. I don't work Thursdays or Fridays because of Ramona."

"Yet she's not here." He raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess."

"Guess?"

"Yeah." He took a sip of his drink. "Spy. The lawyer thing was a cover, and you're actually on a top secret mission."

"Oh." She blinked, scrunching up her face. "You mean you're _actually_ going to guess. As in… you don't even want to be right? And I just needed some time for myself so Ramona's in day care."

"Who says I'm not going to be right?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her, angling his head as he considered. "Your mission actually involves hacking some top secret government agencies, but to do that, the cover of normality is absolutely essential. Therefore, coming to the library is the perfect front - you can use the public internet, granting you perfect anonymity, and, of course, you can check out one of my books while you're there-"

Kate opened her mouth in shock. "How did you-" she rolled her eyes as the last word escaped. "Know?"

He chuckled, a twinkle in his eye. "I was actually kidding, but I told you I was a good guesser."

"Well… I borrowed other books too, if you must know!"

"Really? But not… Patterson or Connelly, right?"

She shrugged, averting her eyes. It was best if he didn't know she only had his book in her purse. And if he had some kind of insecurity about other mystery writers, so much the better. "What can I say? I like the genre."

"A spy who likes mystery novels. I like it."

"Yeah. A spy. Right. If only." She stared across the cafe, watching the bustle of people mill around the counter as they waited for their coffees.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, his voice soft, and she looked up, silence stretching between them. She could tell him. There was no reason to keep it a secret anymore. Her friends and family would know soon enough. Why not start with an almost-stranger?

"I, uh, signed divorce papers two weeks ago," she whispered at last, breaking the quiet, and she watched as his mouth fell open.

"Oh. Uh- Kate. I'm- I had no idea. I'm sorry. I'm-" he shook his head before running a hand through his hair. "I'm really sorry."

"Thanks." She swallowed, fighting the tears that wanted to well, and she sipped her coffee, composing herself. "It's… the right thing. It's been bad between us for a while. But… it still hurts. I never thought I'd be this person. I always thought once I was married, that would be it for me."

He shrugged. "I married my first wife because she was pregnant with Alexis."

Kate nodded. "Yeah. That's… the same as Gabe and I."

"I thought it was the right thing, at the time," he continued. "But it was a disaster, from start to finish."

"And do you work okay together now? Parenting Alexis, I mean?" She leaned her head back with a sigh. If someone had told her a month ago that she'd be getting advice from Richard Castle…

He laughed. "What parenting? Meredith breezes into town whenever it suits her, and… well." He cleared his throat. "Anyway."

"Anyway?" she prompted, and Rick shook his head.

"Both times I got married I did it because I thought it was the right thing to do. Meredith, because she was pregnant, and Gina because we just made so much sense… on paper. But the reality was-"

He stopped himself, and she glanced at him.

"The reality was that both times the divorce was hard."

"Even for you, Mr. Page Six?" she teased, and his eyes clouded over.

"Even for me," he said at last, focusing his gaze on the opposite wall, and she nodded.

She stared at the paper coffee cup in her hands, letting her gaze settle on her now bare ring finger. She hadn't put the wedding band back on since she'd left it on her desk by accident.

"So. Corporate lawyer slash spy. You ever have fun? Let your hair down a little?"

"I have a three year old," she reminded him. "So days like today are pretty rare for me."

"Oh, come on. Some of the best days of my life were when Alexis was a kid. It was awesome. We'd go to the park… I made lots of friends. Do you know how many lonely single mothers there are in a Manhattan playground? And there I was, between marriages!"

"You're kidding right?" Kate glanced over at him, not at all sure if he was serious, and he laughed.

"Um…" He winked at her and she blushed. Right. She'd seen more than enough reports on page six, and even if they were exaggerated, most rumors started somewhere. She hid her smile behind her coffee, draining the rest of the liquid, the caffeine buzz starting to hit her.

"You want to walk a bit?" she asked, and he nodded, standing and taking her empty cup from her, tossing them both into the trash.

* * *

"So are you still helping out at the Twelfth?" she asked, a note of curiosity creeping into her voice as they meandered along the midtown sidewalk.

"Consulting," he corrected. "And yes. They found a doctor in his car this morning. He was tortured before being suffocated."

"Tortured?" she asked, and he flinched.

"Sorry. It's kind of intense. I forget not everyone is as intrigued by gruesome killings as I am."

"No," she assured him. "No, it's kind of interesting. Suffocation… that sounds… personal."

He grinned. She was into his writing after all, so it stood to reason she had some interest in murder and the macabre.

"So does this one make it into your books?"

"Depends on whether we catch the guy, I guess. And what his motives were."

"He? Why does it have to be a he?"

"It doesn't, I guess," he agreed.

"Are you going back there?"

"To the precinct?"

"Yeah… why? You want to come?"

She laughed, shaking her head. "No. Of course not. I just… wondered when you ever get any writing done."

"Right now? I don't. But don't tell my publisher. Who, for the record, is also my ex-wife."

"Exes, hmmm?" She sighed, sadness clouding her eyes, and he stopped, nudging her.

"Hey," he said. "Kate. It will get better."

"I know," she said, but her smile looked forced and he frowned, stepping toward her to wrap his arms around her shoulders before he could stop himself.

She sank into his touch, rather than pulling away like he'd expected, and he raised a hand, bringing it to her head, his fingers stroking her hair. "It really will get better," he promised again, leaning back to meet her eyes, and she smiled at him, her expression wistful as the tears at the corner of her eyes threatened to spill.

"This isn't me," she whispered. "I don't… fall apart like this. Not in the middle of the street."

"Shhh," he said, leaning in again, his eyes falling to her lips and then dropping away. He breathed in, angling his head slightly-

"Sorry!"

His mouth had brushed her cheek. He'd kissed her even if it was just for only a second before he had jerked back, an apology spilling from his lips.

"Sorry!" she exclaimed, taking a step back from him.

"No, no!" He held up a hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean- no. This isn't- I'm not-" He shook his head. "No. Sorry. Kate, that was- that was not fair. I just… I got caught up. I'm sorry."

She laughed at his clumsiness, wrinkling her nose at him. "Let's start again," she suggested.

"Start… what again? Because you just- I don't think that's a good idea!"

"No. Let's just… forget about… that, okay? But maybe we can be friends?" She smiled up at him, a soft expression on her face. "I could… use a friend."

"Friends," he agreed. "I can do that."

She smiled, nodding at him before taking another step back toward the street. "I'm gonna-" she held her hand out, hailing a cab.

"Yeah. I'm going to go back to the precinct. Figure out who suffocated the vic."

"Let me know what you find?"

He nodded, watching as a cab approached and she sat down in the back seat, turning away from him. He watched as she raised a hand to her face, pressing her fingers to the cheek he'd kissed just a minute before.

He watched her leave, for now.

Wow.

And… oops.

* * *

**A/N: K&J with your combined beta super powers, you rock my socks. x**


	7. Chapter 7

**May 2009**

Kate poured boiling water into her teacup, adding milk and taking a wide berth around Gabe, she set it on the counter near the toast she'd made for Ramona. The last thing she wanted was to have this discussion.

"Do you _want_ the apartment? You never said anything-"

"No. No, I don't. But Gabe, looking for a good apartment is hard. We have the space, and we're not here at the same time very often, so I don't think I need to rush into taking a lease for a place that's not right."

Apartment hunting sucked. She'd only made it to two opens so far. One had been perfect - she'd watched as another applicant had been approved on the spot - and the other was so far uptown that, on second thought, she'd had to decline; balancing parenting with Gabe was already hard enough when they lived in the same place so she was determined to stay in Tribeca.

Gabe turned away from her without another word, and she sighed, clenching her fists, and exhaling slowly as she heard the front door slam. She closed her eyes for a second to take in the blissful silence, which was promptly broken.

"Mommy!" Ramona careened into the kitchen, wailing. "I want the park!"

"Mmm. Yes, I said we could go to the park." Kate pressed her lips together as her daughter let out another screech and, holding her breath, she concentrated on keeping her hands at her sides rather than slamming them over her ears in an attempt to block out the impending tantrum. "But first we need to have breakfast, so I need you to sit on your stool and eat your toast."

"No." Ramona stamped her foot and Kate rolled her eyes.

"Then no park." Well. This made two discussions she didn't want to have before breakfast.

"Noooooo!"

A flood of tears spilled from her daughter's eyes and Kate watched, eyebrows raised in silent battle to see who would relent first.

"Breakfast," she repeated, pointing to the stool, and Ramona climbed up, rebellion brewing in her expression. Kate slid the plate of toast toward her, taking the other seat. She sipped her tea, making a face. It was already cold. And… it was tea. She took another sip as her eyes closed, willing herself to believe it was coffee, wishing she was in a cafe far from here, that Rick was beside her.

She opened her eyes.

He wasn't here. This wasn't a cafe. And this sure wasn't a coffee.

She watched as Ramona took a bite of her toast, almost immediately spitting it out and Kate shook her head in warning before glancing at the clock on the oven.

Seven in the morning.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Kate's hand closed around the envelope, and she felt the corner of her mouth curl up as she took in the return address. The DMV. She could feel the card inside and she tore it open, eager.

"What's that?" Ramona asked, hopping up and down in front of the mailboxes, and Kate glanced at her daughter.

"It's my new driver's license," she said, pulling it free and kneeling to show her. "Look. It's got my picture on it, and my name."

"What for?"

"Driving, sweetie. It says I'm allowed to drive a car."

And it said she was Katherine Houghton _Beckett_.

The smile became an all-out grin as she stared at the plastic rectangle. Logically, she should have organized this after she'd moved; she'd have to apply for another one the second she had a new address, but the name change paperwork was through and she hadn't wanted to wait another second to bear the proof that she was once again Kate Beckett.

"Daddy drives."

"I know he does. And Mommy doesn't even have her own car, huh!" She chuckled. "Did you know I had a motorcycle when I was younger?"

Ramona shook her head, losing interest and scampering across the lobby, slamming her little hand into the elevator call button. "Pushed the button," she called, and Kate nodded, following her over to wait.

"Good girl," she said, her eyes still on the card in her hand as they stepped on and traveled upstairs.

_Beckett_.

Having a different last name to Ramona wasn't ideal - nothing about this was ideal - but being Kate Beckett again? That felt good.

They moved into the hallway, and Kate unlocked the door, ushering Ramona inside. She hung her purse on its hook, and taking her wallet from it, she replaced her old license with the new one, carrying the old one into the kitchen, and cutting the rectangle in half, she tossed it.

"Come help me make lunch," she called, and Ramona tore into the kitchen, coming to a stop in front of the refrigerator."

"Lunch," she echoed, and Kate grinned, running a hand through her hair, glad this morning's mood was forgotten.

* * *

Naptime might just be the best time of the day.

Not that Ramona napped anymore, but the strictly enforced quiet time was non-negotiable as far as Kate was concerned. So with Ramona in her own bedroom across the hall "reading" to her teddy-bear, her soft chatter still audible, Kate stretched out on the sofa, her computer in her lap and her cell beside her.

Apartments. She had to look. With a sigh, she opened a new browser window, glancing around the room as she did so. Staying here certainly _wasn__'t _tempting; the ordered clean lines weren't the eclectic look she loved, and the high-end furniture lacked the character of the pieces she'd grown up with. Maybe when she moved she could decorate with some of the items she and her mom had chosen together, so many years ago.

If her dad still had his storage unit.

She should ask. She picked up her cell to call him when it rang, Rick's name appearing on the screen.

"Hey, Rick."

"Good afternoon, Kate Parker!" he exclaimed.

"Nope."

"What?"

"Beckett," she said with a grin. "It's Kate Beckett now."

"You changed your name back!"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Kate… Beckett. I like it."

"Yeah, me too," she confessed.

"Beckett," he tried again, and she laughed, enjoying the sound of her name on his lips.

"You like that, huh?" she asked, swallowing as soon as the words were out of her mouth. She was _not_ supposed to be flirting with him. Not in text messages, not over the phone, and not in person.

"I like it a lot," he said, his voice low and she closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the cushions. "Beckett. Maybe I'll just call you Beckett now. Forget about calling you Kate altogether."

"Uh-huh. And what- I'll call you Castle?"

"Well, the guys already do," he said, a note of pride in his tone, and she frowned.

"Who?"

"Ryan and Esposito. The detectives I'm following around."

"Right. Of course they do."

"It's a cop thing," he informed her.

"Well I'm not a cop," she pointed out. "Anyway. I'm sure you didn't call me up to talk about my last name."

"No. Just called to see how you are. Maybe you'd like to meet for a coffee?"

"I'd love to," she said, throwing a glance toward the hall. The newfound silence from her daughter's room was troubling. "But I've got Ramona, and we've already been out. She's not having a great day, to be honest." She pushed her laptop onto the sofa and stood.

"It's not a problem," he said, his voice soft, and she nodded.

"I know. But I'd really like to." She padded toward Ramona's room. Would she find her daughter sacked out or was she walking into disaster? "Shit."

Ramona whipped her head around, guilt all over her face as she dropped the crayon.

"Everything okay?" Rick asked, and she shook her head.

"Crayon on the walls," she groaned.

"Oh. Alexis never did that. She did scribble all over one of my collector's editions of Patterson's, though. Said she was writing, like me."

"Smart kid. I bet you handed her the pencils, am I right?"

"Well… you're right that there's a certain rivalry between myself and Patterson. And I may have shelved the books I cared about well out of her reach."

"Since I don't paint murals, I don't think Ramona has that kind of excuse." She ran her hand through her hair, frustrated. "We're going to clean that," she told her daughter, watching as her lower lip quivered, and Kate shook her head. "Was parenting this hard for you?" she asked Rick.

"Alexis mostly parented herself," he said. "Patterson books aside. I'd better let you go take care of the crayon situation."

"Unless you have any tips on how to remove crayon from walls?"

"Soap, water and Google?"

"Sounds about right."

"You can buy special paint that they're meant to draw on, you know. And blackboard paint!"

"You sound awfully excited about that."

"Yeah! I'm thinking about it now. It would be great. I could write my ideas on the walls instead of needing to find paper or my laptop!"

"Well maybe I'll look into that special paint when I eventually find a new place to live," she smiled. "For me and Ramona," she added. "Not for you!"

He laughed. "Good luck with the walls. Maybe next week sometime I can meet you on your lunch break?"

"That would be nice," she agreed.

"Bye, Beckett," he said, and she smiled as she ended the call.

She liked it.

_Beckett_.

* * *

Beckett's hand wrapped around the back of his neck as she leaned in, pressing her mouth to his. She shifted forward on the bed so that she was almost straddling him, pushing against him as he let his hands skim around her waist, his thumb slipping under her shirt, making contact with her skin-

"Richard!"

Rick sat bolt upright in bed, his eyes flying open at the sound of his name being shouted across the loft.

He groaned as Martha swept into the room without knocking. "Mother. I was sleeping."

"Yes, well." She dismissed his protest with a wave of her hand.

"Can I help you with something?"

"I was hoping for your assistance with an acting project I'm working on."

"I'm not sure how you think I can help when I'm sleeping," he said, running a hand over his face, and his mother shrugged.

"Well, you're awake now," she pointed out, and he grimaced.

"I'll be there shortly."

"Thank you." Martha nodded, turning and leaving.

The dream had just gotten good. Did his mother really have to wake him up right when-

He groaned. No. This was all wrong, subconscious or not. He was meant to be friends with Beckett. Kate.

_Platonic_ friends.

Not dreaming or imagining or thinking about her in anything other than an innocent way. Their coffee two weeks ago - and the instinctive kiss he'd pressed to her cheek - had been playing on his mind since then, but apart from a handful of messages he'd been reluctant to push.

Judging by their conversation yesterday she was very busy, probably swamped with work as well as parenting and the finer details of splitting up with her husband. The last thing she needed was him there, in her face, unable to control his conflicted emotions. He heaved out a sigh, pushing the sheets away and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Being friends with Kate was going to be harder than he thought. That didn't mean he wasn't going to try.

He pulled his jeans on, trudging out to the kitchen to see what his mother wanted.

* * *

"You're not going into the precinct today, then?" Martha asked as Rick shifted the sofa back to where it belonged. Apparently his mother's 'acting project' had meant she and Alexis had moved furniture around at the crack of dawn, and the only thing he was needed for was returning the living room to its prior order.

Rick shook his head. "The guys will call if they get a good case. I think I'm going to try and get some more writing done today."

"Oh, good. Gina will be pleased." Martha nodded, turning from him and heading to the stairs and he made a face at her retreating form.

"Stop talking to my ex-wife behind my back," he called after her, and she lifted a shoulder in response.

Rick picked his coffee cup up from the counter, turning to go back to his office. He owed Gina a chapter - he owed her a book, by now - but before he could go back to _Roach_ he needed to get Kate out of his head.

He booted up the laptop, opening a new file. _Kate_. Delete. No. He couldn't call it _Kate_. That defeated the whole purpose of writing these… feelings out of his system. No. He would call it _Friendship_. He raised an eyebrow at the screen, already disgusted with himself, and lowered his fingers onto the keys, letting it all flow out.

* * *

"Did you even shower?"

"Hmm?" Rick looked up to see his daughter framed in the doorway, a grin on her face and a coffee in her hand.

"You look like you could use this," she said, wrinkling her nose at him, and he blinked, clearing his head.

"What are you doing home from school already?"

Alexis laughed. "Already? Dad, it's four o'clock. Have you moved from that chair at all today?"

"Sure I have." He nodded at the empty coffee cups on the desk, and she raised an eyebrow, passing him the one in her hand.

"You don't need this then," she suggested, and he shrugged, taking it.

"It's four? Really? Wow. I have been here longer than I thought."

"That's good!" Alexis enthused. "Gina's going to be so happy. I'm so happy. It's been _ages_ since you've written like this!"

"Oh. Yeah." He frowned at the document in front of him. Was that _really_ the word count? It had been… years since he'd made those kinds of numbers in a day… thousands of words on the screen. That would be… he flicked through the document… fifteen pages. Single spaced. "It's… not my book for Gina," he confessed with a wince, and he watched as Alexis' jaw dropped.

"Dad!"

"I-" he looked at his daughter. "I got carried away."

"I'll say you did," she agreed. "Can you use _any_ of it?"

He shrugged, turning back to the laptop and renaming the file, the title coming easily to him now. _Heat_. "Um. I… yeah. Maybe." He looked at the screen, his words staring back at him. He had something. He _totally_ had something. Screw _Roach_. He didn't know just where she fit yet - the fifteen pages were patchy and totally lacking narrative - but he had his next character. Savvy, hot and badass. As soon as he named her, she'd be bigger than_ Derrick Storm _ever was.

* * *

**A/N: Once again, Kylie and Jamie's beta prowess was of the awesome. I had intended to thank reviewers individually, but didn't get the chance this time round. So thank you. Your kind words are appreciated! x**


	8. Chapter 8

**June 2009**

The finer details were the ones that were going to drive her mad.

The bigger picture wasn't looking so bad. Shared custody was fine. In theory. Moving out was fine. In theory. Living separate lives was fine. In theory. It was each of the finer points that needed work.

Every decision required patience, and every conversation was one she didn't want to have. Kate and Gabe had digressed to emails to organize their day to day lives in an attempt to co-ordinate their schedules - Gabe had checked into a hotel temporarily - but it wasn't ideal. Alternating days to pick up Ramona worked fine as a concept, but whenever Gabe didn't answer his phone it became dicey. Today Kate had gone as far as asking her secretary to email Gabe's secretary to confirm that he was going to collect their daughter.

She had done so with a stony glare that spoke volumes about her distaste for assisting with personal errands.

Patterns were slowly being formed, though. Gabe made it home in time to tuck Ramona in at least once a week if he wasn't tasked with picking her up from daycare, before leaving again. Kate, for her part, fought to be home as early as possible each night, but awkwardness framed each of their interactions.

She swept a hand through her hair, trying - and failing - to refocus on the document in front of her.

Had she really spent years in law school for this? Could she spend another decade of her life looking over contracts and deals and company law as if it meant anything to her?

Her cell lit up with Rick's message, and her mouth curved up of its own accord.

_Got time for a coffee?_

She reached for it, tapping out her reply.

_If you can make your way down here. I can probably spare a half hour. Just._

The reply was automatic.

_Now? Because I__'m downstairs in the lobby of your building_.

She grinned, flipping the phone shut and tossing it into her purse, before standing and striding down the corridor into the elevator well. If the less pleasant aspects of her life were taking on a pattern, so too were the bright spots in her day.

Coffee with Rick was becoming a regular thing, and he'd met her several times when she'd needed nothing more than to duck out of work on her lunch break, the caffeine and conversation with him every bit as vital as the breath of fresh air and release from her office shackles.

* * *

Rick stood in the lobby, studying the art beyond the concierge desk, and he spun around at the tap on his shoulder to find Kate behind him, a smile on her face.

"Hey." He grinned as he took her in, pressing a takeaway coffee cup into her hand. "For you."

"You brought me coffee?"

He nodded. "I know your order by now. And if you're pressed for time I want to maximize the opportunity for you to flood your system with caffeine as fast as possible, short of main-lining it."

She laughed, bringing the cup to her lips and sipping. Amazing, how something so simple made her so happy.

"Things okay up there?" he asked with a tilt of his head indicating the top floors of the office building, and she lifted a shoulder in response.

"Fine."

"Hmm."

"What?"

"Nothing. Let's walk to the park," he suggested, raising an arm to let her precede him out of the revolving door and onto the sidewalk, and she stepped forward, lifting her face as the sun filtered onto her skin.

"How are _Roach_?" she asked.

"Well… they're fine."

"Have you been keeping your publishers happy?" she teased, and he nodded, sipping his own coffee.

"Yeah. They're happy." They were thrilled. Gina's daily calls were a distant memory; she satisfied herself with the occasional email, and he'd found if he replied within the day she didn't contact him at all with further demands. "Really happy."

"So what aren't you telling me?" she asked, and he swallowed as they reached Battery Park, sitting on a park bench, the harbor visible through the trees.

"They're… well… _Roach. _They're not exactly the main characters anymore."

They were a footnote, just about.

"And- uh- the new main character is named _Nikki_,"

He sneaked a glance at her, but her face remained neutral. Of course it was. She had no idea what he was hiding.

Kate Beckett._ Nikki Heat_.

"Oh yeah?

"Yeah. She's a- a really great character." He trailed off, unable to voice the whole truth. "Better than _Derrick Storm_," he added.

"Better than _Derrick Storm_?" her eyes flashed, and he leaned back, eying her.

"What?"

"I _love_ Derrick Storm," she said. "How can she be better than _Derrick Storm_?"

"Uh- she's more nuanced, for a start. More… passionate. She has a dark past, and a tendency to hide herself, but she's very tenacious. She's cautious, but she's also fearless, you know?"

"She sounds… amazing." The thinly veiled sarcasm was accompanied by an eye-roll and he narrowed his eyes.

"She is," he retorted. "She is amazing. She never gives up, even when she thinks that she's stuck. There's a part of her that always knows there's _more_, and even if it hurts, she's willing to push, one step at a time."

"One step at a time. I know something about that," Kate agreed, and he grinned, reaching out a hand and brushing hers before pulling back. They still didn't do this. Every touch, every accidental brush held the same feeling of _illicit_ and_ too-soon _as the inadvertent cheek kiss.

Boundaries. He could do boundaries. Without crossing them, that was. But her hand nudged back toward his, and he stared through the trees, unwilling to move or look, lest she shy away. Her hand entangled with his, threading their fingers together, and he chanced a movement, brushing his thumb across hers. Boundaries.

Well, he wouldn't step far over them.

"One step at a time," he agreed, chancing another look at her, and she smiled, meeting his gaze, her lower lip pulled between her teeth.

"What's your next move?" he asked, and she pulled her hand away, bringing her thumb to her mouth.

"I have to move, and… finding a good two bedroom in my neighborhood is proving difficult."

"Do you want me to make a few calls? I mean, I know some people, and I've got a guy-"

"You've got a guy?"

"I've got a guy," he continued over her laughter, "who owes me a favor and he might have a few ideas."

"Hold off," she said. "I just- it can wait."

"But-"

"One step at a time," she reminded him, and he nodded.

"Okay."

She leaned back, her eyes closing as she drained the last of the coffee from her cup, and he swallowed. She was so sex- No! He wasn't having those thoughts. He _wasn't_!

"So what do you have on for the rest of the day, now you've done your duty and rescued me - temporarily - from the paperwork all over my desk?"

"I-" Rick was interrupted by the chirp of his cell phone, and he pulled it from his pocket, grinning when he saw the display. _Precinct. _"Castle!"

He saw Kate roll her eyes at his greeting and he made a face at her as he listened to the details.

"I'll be right there," he told Ryan, ending the call with a flourish, and turning to her. "I have a case!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. It's nearby, actually. A few buildings up from yours."

"What happened?"

"Young lawyer found dead in a boardroom." He nodded, chuckling. "He probably died of boredom in the boardroom."

"Hey." She frowned at him, and he shrugged.

"Sorry."

"Sounds interesting though." Was that a note of wistfulness in her voice?

"Yeah. They usually are, even when they're not, you know?"

"Well coming with you sounds better than the murder waiting for me back at my desk," she joked, and he grinned.

"Dying of boredom there too, are you, Beckett?"

Her eyes flashed as he voiced her last name, but she shook her head, a look of longing coming over her. "I guess… this isn't what I imagined for my life, that's for sure."

"What did you imagine?" he asked.

Dangerous territory. They'd ventured onto this path the day they'd met, with disastrous results.

Then again, more than two months later, they were enjoying a coffee in the early summer sunshine. Not such an irreparable disaster after all.

"I did think about becoming a cop," she confessed. "For about five minutes. Before they caught the guy who killed my mom."

He grinned. "I can see that. Detective Beckett, running a scene. Come with me," he urged. "Get a taste for what they do!"

"I don't think they'd appreciate a lawyer turning up at a crime scene," she retorted, standing, and he stood with her, taking the empty cup from her hands and tossing it into the trash can with his.

"But you're a corporate lawyer!"

"That could be worse, if the victim is from a rival firm."

"Yeah, maybe."

They fell into step together, walking back toward the offices beyond the park.

"But you should follow your dreams," he added, unable to resist, and she shot him a dark look.

"And what? Be a cop? Please."

"Well. Why not?"

"I went to Stuyvesant, and then Stanford and NYU," she started.

"So?"

"So… I was pre-law. I was always going to be a lawyer. I did a semester abroad-"

"Paris?"

"No." She shook her head. "Kiev."

"Kiev? And you're trying to tell me you're destined for a boring life as a lawyer?"

"What's wrong with Kiev?"

"Nothing's wrong with Kiev. And nothing's wrong with being a lawyer. And I'm sure you're a good lawyer. I really am. But, Kate, ordinary girls go to Paris on their semester abroad. Or… I don't know. London. Canada. And there's nothing wrong with Paris, or with London or Canada, but…"

"But what?"

"But Kiev's something different. You're different. And even if you're a good lawyer? If you followed your dreams? You'd be a great cop. The best."

Kate whirled around, her eyes flashing. "Listen. _Castle_. This is not one of your books. I'm not one of your characters. And you don't get to make up a plot that suits you just because my real life is too boring for you. I may work long hours, I may have a shitty job, but I am doing the right thing. We can't all write bestsellers in our spare time and raise our kids without the help of daycare."

"I-"

She held up her hand, shaking her head, her eyes red, tears threatening, and he took a step back. "Rick. When my mom was killed, I wanted to be a cop. I did. I was so angry, and it meant everything to me. Everything. And then they caught the guy. I was nineteen years old, and I was left without a fight, without a crusade. So I stopped looking for trouble, and went back to my life. Except… it wasn't my life anymore. My mom wasn't there, and my dad-" She shook her head. "I have spent every second since then trying to stay afloat. And you've sailed into my life, and I swear- if you pull me and my daughter under-"

"Kate-"

She shook her head. "I have to go, Rick." He watched as she turned and swept down the street, walking faster than should be possible in the sky high heels that she wore, and he swore under his breath as she disappeared into the crowd.

"I'm sorry," he called after her, but she was gone.

* * *

Kate's anger evaporated almost as soon as she was back in her building, the oppressive atmosphere of her firm filling her instead with a sense of dismay.

"If you've got capacity, I need you to look at this advice," one of the senior associates told her, following her into her office, and she looked at the paperwork he slammed down on her desk, closing her eyes for a second.

"Sure," she agreed, swallowing. She guessed that the 'if you've got capacity' wasn't so much a question as a roundabout way to phrase the fact that as far as he was concerned, she had capacity.

What was it Rick had said? That she should follow her dreams? Whatever they'd been, this wasn't it.

* * *

Today's saving grace was the fact that not only was it Gabe's turn to collect Ramona, but he'd emailed her to let her know he'd actually done so, and Kate flicked her computer off, grateful that she had time to make things right.

An afternoon staring at contracts had given her plenty of time to think about how she'd reacted to Rick earlier, and her cheeks flushed warm in shame.

He hadn't meant anything by it.

And it certainly wasn't his fault if years and years of choosing the status quo was having consequences for her now.

She stalked down the hallway to the elevator, making her way to the street and hailing a cab.

He was right.

She didn't want to be ordinary.

* * *

"Homicide's on the fourth floor," the desk clerk directed her, pointing at the elevator, and Kate nodded her thanks as she slipped the visitor's badge around her neck, her steps slow and cautious now that the gravity of her decision was hitting her.

What was she doing, showing up here uninvited?

Not_ uninvited_. Just…_ unexpected_.

Right. An offhand comment suggesting she join him at the murder scene was _not_ an invitation to just show up at the Twelfth Precinct, no matter the unanticipated burst of passion - over-sharing - that had followed.

"Can I help you?" A uniform approached her as she stepped off the elevator, and she nodded.

"I was, uh, looking for Richard Castle? I believe he consults here?"

"He sure does." The uniform looked around. "Not sure where he's got to, but he usually helps Detectives Esposito and Ryan." The names were familiar from Rick's stories, and Kate nodded as he pointed across the bustling room. She blinked, taking it all in. Seven o'clock at night in a law firm found many lawyers still in their offices, but theirs was a more subdued environment. Here, though, the desks were all in the open, and much as she'd always despised the concept of open-plan, it didn't look distracting.

It looked collegial. Inspiring. Like there was room to work together instead of seeing colleagues as competitors to be disposed of on one's way to the top.

Kate walked across the room, stopping in front of the desk she'd been pointed to, her eyes falling on the nameplate. _Detective Esposito_. "Can I help you?" he asked.

"I'm looking for Richard Castle. Is he… here?"

"Yeah, he's in there." He jerked a thumb in the direction of what looked like a break room, as his eyes widened.

"Are you _Kate_?"

She swallowed. He'd been talking about her? "He… mentioned me?"

Detective Esposito chuckled, standing and offering his hand. "Javier Esposito. And yeah. Hasn't shut up about you all afternoon. Keeps going on about how you're never going to talk to him again." He shook his head.

"Kate Beckett." She took his hand, shaking and craning her neck again to see into the room.

"Come on. I'll take you in."

Kate nodded, sure that being walked into the break room was for the detective's benefit, not hers.

"Yo. Castle. You got a visitor."

She watched as Rick turned around, his jaw dropping.

"They really do call you Castle here," she said, raising her eyebrows at Detective Esposito's smirk.

"I- uh- Kate?"

"I'll leave you to it, Bro,"

Detective Esposito closed the door after him and she stepped forward. "Hey."

"Hey…"

"I'm sorry about today," she said. "I didn't mean to-"

"No. It's my fault. I pushed. Again. I'm sorry."

He took a step toward her, running a hand through his hair, and she pulled her lower lip between her teeth, biting down on her smile, and looking around. "This the break room?"

"Yeah." He indicated to the coffee machine. "I'd make you a cup but this stuff is disgusting."

"It's probably a bit late for caffeine," she said, and he frowned, looking at his wristwatch.

"Shouldn't you be home? Putting Ramona to bed?"

She shook her head. "Gabe's got her. He's good to stay until I get there, I told him I'd be late, so I've got a minute."

"Oh. Okay. Good."

"Maybe since I'm here you can show me around," she suggested, looking out at the open space and smiling as she caught Detective Esposito's eye; he dropped his gaze in a show of indifference.

"Sure."

He opened the door, ushering her out. "So this is the bull pen. You met Esposito, and Ryan's taken off already. This, though-" he pointed at a white board. "This is where it's at. The murder board."

"Oh yeah?" He pulled a chair over for her, and she sat down in it, staring at the board as he leaned against the closest desk.

"So we have our vic, in the middle, and a time frame- and look. On this side, we have persons of interest, and on this side, a suspect-"

"I can see that," she interrupted, and from a few feet away, Esposito smirked, coughing as he attempted to hide his laughter and she glanced over at him. Which one was he again? _Detective Ochoa_.

"So we've interviewed two suspects already." Rick shot Esposito a dark look when he opened his mouth to interrupt. "We think we'll have it wrapped up in the morning, just waiting on a couple of warrants."

"And then you can go back to writing?" she teased.

"Unless I have other plans." He wiggled his eyebrows. "If you're free tomorrow night, maybe you could come round to my place for dinner?"

She blinked. That was left-field. Until now they'd steered well clear of this kind of thing, skirting the boundaries between friendship and anything more by limiting themselves to the occasional coffee date and a steady barrage of text messages. But dinner sounded great, and she'd been the catalyst in changing up their routine by coming here in the first place. She should accept his invitation. "I don't know. I have Ramona, and-"

"She can come too," he said. "I mean, I have Alexis, and, well- she'll be there."

"Are you sure? Because you've probably forgotten, but kids eat early."

"It's not a problem," he assured her. "I can even cook something she'll eat, I swear."

"She's not a fussy eater," she said.

"Great, then it's settled."

Kate kept her gaze fixed on the murder board in front of her, as she struggled to keep her voice even. "Then we'll come over around six."

* * *

**A/N: Kylie and Jamie, once again, my gratitude. x**


	9. Chapter 9

**June 2009**

"What's put that smile on your face?"

"Hello, Mother."

Martha crossed the loft toward him to cast an eye over his efforts in the kitchen.

"Pizza," he said, and she raised her eyebrows.

"You're that lit up over pizza? Really?" She cast a discerning glance over the countertop. "And might I suggest that even with the way you cook, that's a little too much pizza for just you, Alexis and I, _so_… we're having visitors tonight I'm assuming?"

He nodded. "Kate's coming over."

"Kate. I see. And… you're cooking her _pizza_?"

"What's wrong with pizza?" he asked, slicing through the mushrooms. "Besides. It's not just Kate. Ramona will be here too."

"Mmm-hmm."

"What?" He narrowed his eyes. "If you've got something to say, just say it."

"Well… it's awfully soon to be inviting her around for dinner with her daughter, isn't it?"

"It's not like that," he insisted, his stomach sinking as he lied to his mother and to himself. "We're just friends."

"Oh, Richard." Martha lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "You may think you're deluding yourself, but I can assure you I'm not fooled for a second."

He shook his head, his eyes on the ham as he concentrated on cutting it into ribbons. "I know. She just got divorced. It's… soon. Too soon. So yes, we're just friends. And if something…" He shook his head, the memory of his inadvertent kiss warming his cheeks. "Slowly. We're taking things slowly."

Martha nodded, her eyebrows raised in disbelief, and he sighed.

He could go slow.

He could.

* * *

Ramona swung her legs, kicking anything within reach, and Kate shot her another look.

"Not hungry, Mommy," she complained, her second slice of pizza sitting on her plate as everyone else ate and Kate shook her head in warning.

"Then sit still and wait for everyone else to be finished."

Ramona nodded, and Kate sighed in relief; peace was brokered, for a second at least.

"Richard tells me you're a lawyer," Martha said, and she nodded. "That must be very interesting! All those court cases. Witnesses lying in the box, judges shouting for order!"

Kate laughed. "I'm a corporate lawyer. I haven't seen the inside of a courtroom since law school." And her first time had been when she watched her mother's killer plead guilty. She shook the dark thought away. "I'm afraid most of my work is in mergers. Company law, that kind of thing."

"Oh. Well. We can't all be artistic," Martha dismissed, and Kate chuckled at the look Rick threw his mother, so reminiscent of the warning glare she'd just fixed on Ramona.

"Well I think that sounds important," Alexis said, and Kate grinned, pleased to have the vote of confidence. Obviously the younger girl was the diplomat in the family.

"I don't know that it's that important," she admitted, exchanging a confiding grin with Alexis. "But I always wanted to be a lawyer." _Not always_. "This is really great, Rick."

He beamed. "My key to feeding kids- feed them things you can stand to eat too. Makes for much happier mealtimes. Pizza's easy. Ham and pineapple on one, interesting ingredients on ours."

"Hey!" Alexis protested. "I was never a fussy eater. Was I?"

Rick shook his head. "As long as you'd helped me in the kitchen, you were usually pretty good at eating everything."

Alexis grinned, turning to Ramona. "Are you full? Or do you want to try a piece of mine?" Ramona nodded, reaching a tiny hand out to accept the piece Alexis cut for her. "Yum," Alexis encouraged.

Kate grinned at the two of them, taking a last bite of her dinner. For all Rick had claimed Alexis had mostly raised herself, she could see he'd actually done a fabulous job parenting her. The teenager had been great with Ramona all evening; her three year old had insisted she sit next to Alexis the moment she'd laid eyes on her.

"I can clear the table," Alexis said, standing and reaching for the plates, and Rick smiled at her.

"Thanks, Pumpkin."

"Thanks, Alexis," Kate echoed, startling as her cell rang in her purse, the high pitched tone slicing through the amiable mood. "Excuse me."

* * *

"Have you been drinking?"

Rick cringed as Kate lowered her voice to speak into the phone.

"No. If I'd known you intended to tuck her in of course I would have been there. But honestly, I don't really think it's a good idea for you to be there when we get home."

"Daddy?" Ramona asked, her eyes darting to Kate, and Alexis shrugged, reaching for the little girl's hand.

"I don't know." Alexis' gaze went to him before falling back to Ramona. "But hey, while your mom is on the phone do you want to come upstairs with me? I have some picture books up there. We could choose something to read?"

Rick smiled at Alexis in gratitude, and Ramona nodded. "Up. Read books." She tugged on Alexis' hand and he watched them climb the staircase before waving Kate toward his office.

"If you need some privacy," he whispered, and she nodded, mouthing her thanks.

"I'm at a friend's place, Gabe. No- you don't know them."

Rick clenched his teeth, the non-gendered personal pronoun grating on him. She shouldn't have to lie to her ex-husband.

"Darling, you knew it wouldn't be easy," Martha said, and he shrugged.

"I just want to help her," he said, stacking the plates into the dishwasher.

"Then be her friend," his mother urged. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have plans- bid Kate farewell for me, won't you?"

"Sure." He managed a weak smile.

"Oh, chin up, Kiddo," Martha said. "It won't be easy. But… she's worth it, Richard, and don't you let any roadblocks tell you otherwise. Mark my words, though, you need to tread gently."

"I'm treading gently," he protested, and his mother raised an eyebrow before heading for the front door.

He could do gentle. And slow. But he couldn't stand by and do nothing.

He sighed, pouring a glass of wine and topping Kate's up too as he leaned against the counter.

"Hey." Kate's voice was hesitant as she returned from his office.

"Hey."

"It's, uh-" she pointed. "It's really… it's like the Batcave in there."

He chuckled. "You like it?"

"Yeah. I do. The whole place, actually." She looked around, her eyes wide. "I didn't really stop to take it all in before, but it's amazing."

"I like to have a place I can retreat to," he told her, and her eyes clouded over.

"Yeah. I'd like that too. Where's Ramona?"

"The girls are upstairs. Alexis has a ton of picture books. And my mother went out-"

"Your mom went out?" Her eyebrow lifted, the surprise evident.

"Trust me, whatever you might read in the papers, my mother has the most active social life of anyone in this house by far."

"Good to know." She lowered her gaze, and he handed her the wine glass he'd just filled for her.

"Everything okay?"

She shook her head. "Not- not really. Gabe doesn't really drink-" she cast a wry look at the wine glass in her hand before taking a sip. "But when he does he goes all out, and it sounds like he started early today. He's…"

"He's not _violent_ is he?"

"No! No, not at all. Really." She laid a palm on his arm and he froze, his breath catching for a moment before she dropped her hand. "But he's arrogant at the best of times, and when he's been drinking, he's downright rude and belligerent. So I'm not really looking forward to going back to the apartment. He's been staying in a hotel, but apparently he's chosen tonight to sleep at home."

Rick stared across the room. She couldn't go home. Not to that. Not with Ramona. A home was meant to be a sanctuary, not a battleground. "Stay here," he blurted out, the words tumbling from his mouth before he could catch them. "I just mean- we have a guest room. I know Ramona's already tired- there's a bath upstairs, and Alexis can find you a shirt to sleep in, and the two of you can share the bed, and-"

She leaned against the counter next to him, reaching out again, this time entwining her hand with his. "I couldn't intrude like that," she said, and he shook his head.

"No. You wouldn't be intruding. Because we have the space, and-" he sighed, dropping her hand and spinning so they were facing each other. "Kate. It just- I know you said he's not violent, but the thought of you walking into that makes me really uncomfortable. I'm not going to make you stay, but I wish you would."

"Really?"

"Really." He reached out again, squeezing her hand, and leaning forward.

"Mommy!" Ramona called from upstairs and Kate chuckled, pulling away from him as she set her wine glass on the counter.

"Shall we go upstairs?" she asked. "And I can bathe Ramona and put her to bed?"

"Sounds good."

He trailed behind her, unable to stop the words tumbling from his mouth. "The bathroom is Alexis' bathroom, and the bed in the spare room is already made up. I'll get you some towels, and now the books that Alexis is reading will be a bedtime story, and-"

"Rick," she said, peering over her shoulder and he stopped.

"Sorry."

"It's okay." Her soft tone loosened the tension he was carrying. "But let's take it easy. If she won't sleep here it's not worth pushing it."

He nodded, knocking on the open door to Alexis' room, smiling to see the three year old curled into his daughter.

"I think she's falling asleep," Alexis whispered, and Ramona shook her head.

"Not sleepy." But her heavy eyelids told a different story.

"We might even skip the bath," Kate said. "Come here, sweetie. You want to have a sleepover?"

"I sleep here?" Ramona asked, climbing down from the bed to look up at Alexis, and Kate shook her head.

"Not in with Alexis. But in with me-"

"Next door," Rick clarified. "The guest room is next door to Alexis' room."

"Next door," Kate continued, and Ramona nodded.

"Mommy, we read books. With elephants."

"Elephants, huh?"

"Like you," she said, curling into Kate and poking a hand into her mother's ribcage. "Elephants like you."

"Uh- we read _Five Minutes__' Peace_," Alexis explained, and Kate chuckled.

"I don't know that one."

"Like mommy," Ramona repeated, her hand bunching at Kate's shirt and pulling it up. "See?"

Rick swallowed, taking a step back. Skin. So much Kate skin. And a fine dark line- His jaw dropped as he realized just what Ramona meant. An elephant. On Kate. On her ribcage. Oh. He'd like to see- She pushed her shirt back down, shaking her head at Ramona.

"Elephants," she agreed. "But we don't need to show everyone now."

"Not now…" Rick managed, and Kate shot him a dark look that could have been annoyance, or… arousal? "Um." He blinked, clearing the image. "Alexis, do you have anything that Ramona could sleep in? A shirt or something? And for Kate, too?"

"Sure." Alexis stood up, scrambling through her dresser and producing a couple of t-shirts and some leggings. "The sizes aren't right- for either of you," she laughed.

"Thanks, Alexis," Kate said, taking them and lifting Ramona up. "Can you recommend me another book or two? I'll go tuck this sleepy girl in."

Alexis handed over a couple, and Ramona raised her head from where it rested on Kate's shoulder, pointing at the one on top.

"Elephants," she said again. "Like mommy's picture."

* * *

Staying the night.

That was… unexpected. To say the least. But Rick had looked so _earnest_. And the idea of walking into a fight with a sleeping child in her arms was in no way appealing… what was the harm, if Ramona was happy to sleep here?

Kate ran her hand through her daughter's hair, smiling at the sight of her sleep slackened face, and stood, tiptoeing from the bed. Ramona was sprawled out - and just how a three year old could take up _that _much room she had no idea - and as she slipped into the hallway, closing the door behind her, she made her way down the stairs, only to pause on the second step.

"Do you know what you're doing, Dad?" Alexis' voice carried, and she froze, not wanting to interrupt their conversation.

"Of course I do, Sweetie," Rick assured her. They were silent a moment, and she heard the clink of glasses against the counter and footfall across the loft.

"I don't want you to get hurt. I know you like her," Alexis said, and Kate squeezed her eyes shut. She definitely should not be listening to this.

"I do like her."

Kate concentrated on keeping her breathing even. He liked her. The feeling was mutual. And terrifying.

"I like her a lot. And you don't need to worry, okay? I know what I'm doing."

Kate cleared her throat, making a show of treading heavily on the steps as she walked down the stairs, and Rick and Alexis whirled around, identical looks of guilt on their faces.

"I was just going up to bed," Alexis said. "Good night, Kate."

"Night," she called to her retreating back.

Kate watched Alexis climb the stairs before turning her gaze to Rick.

"Is everything okay?"

"Fine… how much did you hear?"

"Enough to guess you were talking about me," she confessed, dropping her eyes.

"Sit," he urged her, indicating to the sofas, and she sank down into the closest couch, watching him pick up their wine from the counter.

"So…" she said, accepting the glass he offered her. "You told Alexis you know what you're doing?"

"I-uh-" He shrugged, his features comically helpless. "I may have… oversold that a little."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning…" he shifted in, closer to her, and she was acutely aware of the heat radiating off him, the bulge of his arms through the button down he'd been wearing all evening. "Meaning I have no idea."

He reached out, a tentative touch as he ran his index finger across her wrist where her shirt had inched its way up her arm, and she watched as goosebumps formed, the hairs standing up straight, a shiver running through her veins. _Oh._

"No idea," he murmured again, leaning in, his lips brushing against hers so softly, and she reached for his glass, setting it - and hers - on the table behind the sofa before inching closer, deepening the kiss. He tasted like wine and she let out an unintended gasp. Her mouth opened further, inviting him in and moving forward, his hand tangled into her hair as hers gripped his waist.

He shifted back, the movement startling her, a smile dancing on his lips.

"An elephant?" he asked, and she shrugged, feeling her cheeks warm. "I'd love to hear the story."

She shook her head. Tell him about seventeen-year-old Katie Beckett, wild-child?

That girl with her fake ID announcing her as an eighteen year old to anyone who cared to ask - surprisingly few had - had been a different person, her bravado a mere front as she'd held Maddie's hand while the needle stung her skin. Her mother's eyes had darkened with sadness when Kate had confessed what she'd done. _"You'll regret it. One day I'll say I told you so."_ But she'd laughed and hugged her when she'd seen her favorite animal inked on her daughter's skin, whispered a belated blessing. _"It's beautiful, Katie."_

"There is no story."

"I find that hard to believe," he said, and she lifted a shoulder in response, leaning back in and pressing her mouth against his. He smiled, lips curling as he kissed her back for a moment.

"Are you okay?" she asked, his hesitance apparent in the tap of his fingers against his jeans.

"I meant what I said- I don't know how to do this. I- it's not just us at stake here, Kate."

She nodded, sinking into the cushions. "It's very… new," she offered, and he nodded.

"Very."

"So… what do we do?"

"Keep taking it slow," he suggested. "Which means… I have to stop kissing you, in case you don't make it upstairs to the guest room. I have to stop kissing you so I can stop thinking of how much I want to take your hand and lead you over to my bedroom." He pointed toward the office, and she swallowed; she'd peeked into his room when she'd been on the phone earlier. "I have to stop kissing you…" He leaned in again, pressing a last, longing kiss to her lips and she raised a hand to her mouth as he drew back, his eyes locked with hers.

He reached for the wine glasses, handing her hers and taking a sip from his own, the serious expression falling from his face.

"I have to stop kissing you… now. But Kate- you have no idea how much I'm looking forward to seeing your tattoo properly one day."

* * *

**A/N: Thank you guys for all your kind words and messages and reviews and tweets, and thanks Kylie and Jamie for the beta. x**


	10. Chapter 10

**July 2009**

Kate clicked through her emails, deleting them as she went; two days out of the office made for a lot of mundanity to filter through first thing each Monday morning.

Calendar notice. All firm briefing. She clicked accept.

Library newsletter. She clicked delete.

Partner update. She scanned through the dot points, marking it as read.

Calendar notice. Meeting with Human Resources at nine o'clock. She clicked _accept_, frowning as she looked at the clock on the corner of her screen. Eight forty-five. That gave her fifteen minutes until… what? She stared at the words on the screen.

Meeting.

Human Resources.

Nine o'clock.

This could only mean one thing.

* * *

"In this economic climate…" The drone of the Human Resources Manager's voice barely permeated. She'd always liked Maggie. Was this what an out of body experience felt like? "…we're making cuts right throughout the firm, at every level." Kate nodded, an automatic response as she fixed her gaze on the painting behind Maggie. "We'd hoped to avoid these kinds of measures, but…" Another nod. Was she supposed to say something? "…I'm afraid we're going to have to let you go."

Kate blinked, trying to pull herself together. "When do I finish?' she managed.

Maggie tilted her head, the look of sympathy genuine. "Today, Kate. Head back to your office now, clean out your things."

"And, uh-" Today. Okay. "What about severance pay?"

"We'll pay out all the vacation days you're owed, and you have four weeks of pay on top of that." Maggie stood, reaching out to take Kate's hand, and she shook it automatically. "I'm sorry, Kate. I really am."

"I know," Kate said, forcing the words out.

Unemployment.

What now?

* * *

"They can't do that!"

"They can!"

"I'll get you a lawyer," Rick insisted, and she shook her head.

"I _am_ a lawyer. I read it all through. They can do it, and they did."

"But-"

Kate shook her head. "No, Rick. You can't fix this. I don't want you to. I-" She hesitated, biting her thumb nail as she found the words she needed. "You've told me over and over I shouldn't be a lawyer. And while there's a part of me that wants to print out a dozen resumes and line up interviews and prove to myself that I was meant for this... I can't."

"I never meant to say that, Kate," he said, shame in his voice. "I should never have told you that you shouldn't be a lawyer."

"When I packed up my personal things, do you know what I realized? I had a couple of pictures of Ramona on the wall. And I had a winter jacket in the closet, and a pair of shoes in a desk drawer. And that was… it. Those four walls weren't my life. I'm not sure what's next, but when I put those things into the box they gave me, let them escort me downstairs with the others from my floor, you know what I realized? That's not my life. When I handed back my blackberry I felt the way I felt when I signed the divorce papers. Free."

"Really?"

"Really." She slipped her hand into his, staring at him from across the table, butterflies in her stomach. "I don't know what I'm going to do… but I'm going to start by _enjoying_ the summer."

He leaned his head back against the booth, his thumb tracing circles across her palm. Hand holding. They might have been in a holding pattern, but it didn't suck. Except for when the light caress of a single fingertip skirted up her arm, or when the patterns on her wrist became a catalyst to wanting to dash from the cafe - or park, or whichever public place in which they'd found themselves - and hail a cab. That was when she wanted nothing more than to lose herself in Rick's arms, in his bedroom, for hours.

_Slowly_.

She exhaled, pulling her hand from his, and standing.

_You__'re not there yet_.

"I have to go. I… I'll call you, soon. I promise. Okay?"

He nodded, standing up too and pulling her to him, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Okay," he agreed, and she twisted, letting her lips brush against his before turning and leaving.

* * *

She stared at the phone in her hand, the contact list dancing before her eyes. She had to do this. Make the effort. If she was going to untangle her life, one step at a time, her father had to be a part of it. She sighed, using a shaky fingertip to dial, before pressing the phone up to her ear.

"Hi, Katie."

"Hey, Dad."

"It's nice to hear from you," he said. His voice was clear, his pronunciation even, and she dared to smile. Was he really sober?

"Yeah… it's been too long," she agreed, and she heard him heave out a heavy breath on the other end of the line.

"Are things okay with you, Katie? I got your email, and I wanted to call, but-"

"I'm sorry," she said.

"You told me not to call you, and I figured, well, I don't really have the right to ignore you. But I wanted-"

"I'm sorry," she said again. "I shouldn't have said that. Told you not to call. I just- I wanted to work it through on my own, and-" Kate hung her head, tears prickling at her eyes. _Don__'t shut him out_. He loved her, she knew that. _Emailing_ him to tell him she was getting divorced… not her finest moment. "And I was scared. I knew- I _know_ you're going through a lot. And I didn't want to disappoint you."

"Nothing you've ever done has ever disappointed me, Katie," he assured her, and she sank down onto the sofa, tears flowing freely now.

"Well… I wanted to tell you this, and not through email. I, uh- I lost my job." She swallowed. Until now she'd been fine. Walking from the office building for the last time? She'd been fine. Telling Rick? She'd been fine. But now, confronted with her father over the phone? She wasn't fine.

"Oh, Katie. Oh, it's okay," Jim assured her, and she heard in his voice the strength of the father she'd known her whole childhood.

"Yeah," she agreed, sniffling and running the back of her hand over her face in an attempt to wipe the tears away.

"Don't cry," he urged her, and she shrugged, more tears starting.

"Anyway." She blinked the tears away. "How have you been?"

"Are you asking me if I've been drinking?"

"No, I-"

"It's okay. You can ask. It's… tough. Really tough. But I'm determined to beat this. Sometimes it feels like one step forward, and two back, but… I'm trying. I'm nearly three months sober."

Kate frowned. "You don't have to… explain yourself. Not to me."

Jim cleared his throat. "I'm not explaining myself. But by telling you, I'm holding myself accountable."

Kate nodded. "Okay. Then I'm glad. Maybe you should get away from the city for a while?" she suggested.

"Yeah. I probably should," he agreed, the words coming slowly. "I've been thinking about going up to the cabin for a while. But Katie? I get lonely. I can't do this alone."

She swallowed. The raw honesty in his voice cut to her core; she hadn't spoken to her father like this - adult to adult - before.

"Have you found somewhere new to live yet?" he asked, and she shook her head, looking around the room. Finding a new place without income was going to be a challenge, and dipping into her savings wasn't something that sat well with her.

"No. Not yet."

"Come up with me," he urged. "Just for a few weeks. Bring Ramona. The cabin- it was in pretty bad shape when I was there over Christmas. It needs painting, badly. We could fix it up."

"Maybe." Could she leave the city for a few weeks? She sucked her cheeks between her teeth, biting down as the real question surfaced. Could she leave _Rick_ for a few weeks? "Maybe," she said again.

He would understand. Time to herself, time to reconnect with her father. Time for Ramona to get to know her grandfather. She'd be able to show her daughter all the special places that had punctuated her childhood summers. She would talk to Rick. They were taking things slowly for a reason. A few weeks apart might hurt, but in the long run? A fresh start, some time out in the countryside? It might be the perfect antidote to the challenges the year had already thrown her.

"When do you want to go?"

* * *

Kate pulled up in the overgrown driveway, killing the engine of the car once she was under the shade of the oak next to the shed, behind her father's station wagon.

"Here?" Ramona asked, and she nodded, twisting around to look at her daughter in her car seat.

"We're here," she said. "Want to go see where Grandpa is? I can see his car already." She pointed at the car in front of them.

Ramona nodded, and she took the key from the ignition, tucking it into her pocket and stepping out of the car. She leaned against the door for a moment, staring across the grounds to the cabin. Her dad hadn't been kidding when he'd told her the place needed some work; the driveway was more weeds than gravel, and the garden was overgrown.

Last time she'd been here had been the summer before college; she hadn't realized that those two weeks would be the last time she'd visit for over a decade, hadn't been able to imagine the different circumstances in which she would be returning.

She stared down toward the lake; the boathouse, too, was falling apart, and what had been a deep shade of red was now faded paint, several slats of wood rotted and missing. Still… as she stared, she could almost see herself, running down to the water's edge and leaping off the end of the pier.

"Mommy!" Ramona tapped on the car window and she turned back to her daughter. She opened the door, unstrapping her and helping her down.

"Okay, Sweetie. Let's go in."

"Katie!"

The back door opened, revealing her dad framed in the doorway, and Ramona ran to him. "Grandpa!"

"Hey," she said, watching her daughter jump into his arms. "Hi." He slung an arm around her, pulling her into an awkward embrace while balancing Ramona on a hip.

"How was the drive?"

"Good. A clear run," she said. "We only stopped once, didn't we?"

Ramona nodded.

"Have you been here long?"

"Got in about an hour ago," Jim told her. "I made up the beds already. I- have you been here- since?" He shook his head as he spoke, as if he knew the answer.

"No," she said, her voice low. "Not since- the summer before."

He nodded. "I… have a lot of stuff here," he told her. "I was storing it here. So- it's all a bit crowded. And the third bedroom is- well, you don't want to sleep in there, put it that way. So I have you two in your old room, okay? In the twin beds."

Kate smiled. "That's… fine." Her old room. Her mother might not be here, but life continued; she was here with her daughter.

"Then let's get your stuff from the car, and you can come on in and we'll have some lunch."

* * *

"This is a good plan, Kate," her dad said, and she nodded, twisting around in her chair to look at him in the dusk as he cleaned the grill. "I'm… glad you came up."

"Me too," she agreed, her voice lost in the call of the cicadas, the heavy drone of the lake coming alive at night.

He shrugged, putting down the scraper at last, and coming to sit beside her. "I'm glad to have the chance to get to know Ramona. It feels… like a second chance. To spend some time with my granddaughter."

"You- I never wanted to keep her from you, in the city," Kate said, her mouth dry. Even in the day's dying light these were hard conversations.

"I know." Jim smiled. "But- I tried, so many times. To stop. I did. And it… worked. Sometimes. For a little while. But then- when I got your email, telling me you'd split up with Gabe… I knew. I had to be a better father. A better grandfather. You were getting your life on track. I had to do the same."

"Getting a divorce was getting my life on track?" Kate cleared her throat. "That's… not how I saw it. See it."

"Don't you?" He smiled, the low light from the citronella candles casting flickering shadows across his face. "You're… lit up. In a way I haven't seen for years. Even in that email you wrote me- reading between the lines? I could see hope."

"But-"

"But nothing. I… liked Gabe. Or, at least, I never had anything against him."

She opened her mouth to protest - her father had never been overly warm toward Gabe - but he held up his hand to stop her.

"I didn't. I don't. He's… not a bad man. Maybe he's even a good man. But he's never been the right man for you. The way you are now? That's the Katie I used to know. And I'm so glad you and Ramona are up here for the summer."

Kate felt the corner of her mouth tug up as she stared out into the darkness of the garden. How many times had she torn around in the pitch black, chasing fireflies and turning cartwheels while her parents sat up here, talking the evenings away? It wouldn't be too many more years before Ramona's bedtime was relaxed. Maybe one day she'd be sitting here with Rick, watching her daughter run wild.

"What's put that look on your face?" her dad asked, and she shook her head, pushing the images away.

Too soon.

"Nothing," she whispered. "Nothing… yet."

* * *

"Castle!" he answered, and she grinned at the joy in his voice.

"Hey. It's… Beckett."

"Hey… _Beckett_."

"Hi…"

"How are you? Missing the city yet?"

Kate leaned against the cabin, looking over their property, the lake sparkling in the sunlight. "It's been a day, Rick!"

"You could still miss… the _city_. In a day."

"I could… and maybe, in a way… I do. Miss… the _city_."

"Mmm-hmm. The _city_ misses you, too, you know."

"Good to know," she managed.

"So how is it up there? Worth the four hour drive?"

Kate padded over to the picnic table they'd eaten at last night, settling into one of the awkward wooden chairs. "So worth it," she said. "It's… nothing like I remember, and it's exactly the same." Her eyes fell on the boathouse again, the rotting wood an eyesore, and she winced. "It needs a lot of work."

"And you and your dad are going to work on it?"

"As much as we can, with Ramona here- it might be slow going." She shrugged. Here it was. "I think… I think it's going to be more than a two or three week trip. We'll probably come down to the city a couple of times, if Gabe wants to see Ramona. But I think we're going to stay the whole summer."

"Oh." The disappointment in his voice was heavy. "I- that's good, Kate. You should do… what you need to do."

"I'll… miss you," she confessed. "But… we're- it's so new. I think some time, some space… it's not a bad thing. And my dad… there's stuff I haven't told you, and, well… we're reconnecting. It's important. I'd like to be in the city. But I need to be here."

"Of course you do," he said. "Of course you should reconnect. But if you come to the city so your ex can see Ramona, you'll tell me, right?"

"Of course."

"So, uh- what kind of work are you doing?"

"Um… we're going to paint and garden. And there's a ton of stuff that's just been sitting here, for years. Furniture, that kind of thing. Pieces that my mom chose. It's all kind of… crammed into one of the bedrooms. I'm going to go through it. Figure out what I can use in the city. The boat shed needs to be repaired… and the kitchen is kind of falling apart, and the bathroom…" She curled her leg beneath her, rolling her eyes. "It was an old kitchen and bathroom when I was here ten years ago. Everything's in pieces… it's a nightmare."

"But…"

"But I love it," she confessed, laughter bursting free. "I love this place, and I should never have waited so long to come back."

"I'm glad."

Rick was quiet, and Kate sat with the phone pressed to her ear, happy to sit in silence a moment.

"So… it sounds like your to-do list is pretty long… I'd better let you get back to it."

"Talk soon?"

"Talk soon," he promised, and she ended the call, standing and stretching before walking back into the cabin.

* * *

"Look what I found, Katie!" Jim held up a box of books, and she peered in.

"They're… mine. What are they doing here?"

"I think you packed them up when you moved out of your dorm room?"

"Yeah… that sounds about right." She nodded, reaching into the carton and pulling out a couple. She'd packed so much of herself away when she'd moved in with Gabe.

"There are three more boxes."

"Books? Mommy? We read?"

She reached for Ramona, curling an arm around her. "Uh-huh. We can read. But not these ones. Do you know where you put Alexis' elephant book this morning?"

Ramona nodded, darting amongst the boxes into the bedroom, and she grinned.

"Wow…" Kate looked up at her father. "All my comics. I… never thought I'd see those again."

Jim chuckled. "Comics. And mysteries- do you still read these?" He lifted another box, unstacking the contents onto the floor in front of her, and she sank down, picking through them, her jaw dropping as she flipped through a couple of the hardbacks.

"Rick," Ramona announced as she sat herself down, picture books in hand, pointing at the dustjacket, and Kate laughed.

"It sure is."

"You've indoctrinated your daughter, I see," Jim said, his eyes twinkling, and Kate dropped her gaze, her cheeks warming. "Just how do you know about Richard Castle, little one?" he asked Ramona.

"Our friend," Ramona beamed at her grandfather. "Alexis gives me books." She held up the ones in her hand, showing him. "Rick makes me pizza."

"Alexis- Who? And… Rick makes you pizza?"

Jim's eyes narrowed as he put it together.

"Katie, when you said you were stepping outside to phone your friend _Rick_, just who were you speaking to?"

* * *

**A/N: Thank you all so much. x**


	11. Chapter 11

**September 2009**

"I know you like to be independent," Jim started, and Kate whirled around at the seriousness of his tone, her coffee cup halfway to her lips. "So I've been holding off on suggesting this. But… what about your mom's apartment?"

"Mom's apartment? What?"

Jim tilted his head, indicating to the deck, and she followed him out, Ramona trailing after her.

"I'm gardening," her daughter announced, tugging on the galoshes by the door and looking around with all the self-possession of an explorer surveying newly discovered land.

"Where I can see you, okay," she said, pointing at the pot plants to the side of the cabin. Ramona nodded, struggling with the watering can, and not quite making it, she dumped the water all over the grass with a proud smile before gently stroking the petals on the flowers. Kate bit her lip, watching her. Her city toddler had turned into a country girl before her eyes over the last few months. "What do you mean, Mom's apartment?" she asked again, turning back to Jim.

He sighed, looking out toward the lake and shielding his eyes from the late summer sun. "You probably don't even remember it. Your mom had an apartment in the East Village. A one bedroom, but it's a big place. Really spacious." He nodded at Ramona. "A two bedroom would be better, obviously, but the living room is really long, with some pillars, from memory, and I think you could partition it off to make a little nook for her."

"Have I ever been to this apartment?" Kate sipped her coffee - the warmth on her tongue her daily reminder of Rick - before setting the mug down on the new patio table.

"I thought so. But maybe not. I've had tenants in there for years."

"And you'd ask them to leave? For me- us?"

Jim shrugged. "I would. And I was going to. But when I went into town yesterday to get the mail I actually got notice from them. They're leaving. They're paid up to the end of this month, but they returned the key already."

"Oh…" Kate shook her head. "East Village, huh?"

"I think it would suit you, you know. Kinda… eclectic. And it's still pretty close to Tribeca. It would be easy to go between there and Gabe's place, for Ramona."

"It sounds… incredible. What kind of rent were you getting from it?"

Jim raised his hand. "Don't you worry about that. It was your mom's. It's as much yours as it is mine."

"But-"

"But nothing. It was your mom's. I don't need it. I'll get the paperwork drawn up once I'm back in the city."

"Wow." Kate closed her eyes, tears threatening. "Wow. Really?"

"Really."

"Thank you."

Jim nodded. "The keys are with the estate agent. I'll let them know you'll pick them up when you're back in the city next week."

"Aren't you coming back with us?"

Jim shook his head. "I think another week or so out here… see the summer out. See how I handle the silence on my own."

"Are you sure?"

Jim chuckled. "Maybe I'm just sick of painting and I don't want to help you do your new apartment." He paused, his studied gaze over the water somehow calculated. "Maybe I just want to give your friend Rick something to do. See what he's like at painting."

* * *

"I _love_ painting!" Rick enthused, and Kate raised her eyebrows.

"Really? You've painted before? Walls?"

"I'll have you know that… no. Okay. Not so much _walls_, as set pieces. I've painted many a set piece in my early life, mostly for my mother in her various productions."

Kate closed her eyes, biting back her laughter. A few flying visits to the city so that Gabe could see Ramona hadn't lent themselves to nearly enough coffee dates with Rick. But close to daily - okay, daily - calls and text messages combined with the sheer amount of backbreaking work she'd undertaken had made the summer rush by, but being back in the city was nothing short of amazing. And right. It felt right. Rick had folded her into his arms when she'd shown up at his loft, swinging her around until Ramona demanded he swing her too.

Now Ramona was upstairs with Alexis while they sat at his counter, the picture of civility, carefully not touching one another.

"So… when did you get back?"

"We got in this morning. My dad's got an apartment in Chelsea. We're staying there for the next week-"

"You could have stayed here," he offered.

Kate nodded. "Thank you. But… this is okay. My dad wanted to help. Tomorrow morning I'm taking Ramona back to daycare, and then going to check out the apartment in the Village." She laughed. "From what my dad says, it's in pretty rough shape, but it can't be worse than the cabin."

"And you fixed that up pretty well, by the sounds of it?"

"It's great. Here, I have some pictures on my cell-" She reached into her pocket, flicking the gallery open. "Look."

She slid the phone across the counter and he reached for it, his hand brushing against hers, and she froze as they touched, squeezing her eyes shut for a second as the damn broke. She twisted in her seat, slamming her mouth into his, moaning as he responded; his hands were in her hair, his tongue in her mouth, and standing, his thigh fit between her legs, pressing insistently as she gasped, returning the kiss.

She wrapped her arms around him, letting her hands scorch over his t-shirt and under, breathing a sigh into his mouth as she touched his skin, shifting forward to close the already non-existent gap between them.

"Kate," he managed, his hand moving from her hair to claim her waist, and he nudged his thumb under her shirt, skimming her waist and dropping his mouth to her throat, peppering kisses from her collarbone to her jaw-

"Mommy?"

She whirled around, leaping back from Rick, her eyes wide. "Sweetie?"

"What are you doing?" Ramona took the stairs one at a time, Alexis behind her, the teenager's expression horrified.

"Sorry!" Alexis mouthed, and Kate shook her head.

"Sorry, Pumpkin." Rick laughed. "We were just looking at pictures of the cabin," he said to Ramona.

"I garden at the cabin!" she exclaimed, jumping from the last step and running over. "Show me pictures!"

"Yes. Well." Kate sat back on the stool, resting her hand on Rick's thigh for a moment before pulling Ramona up into her lap and reaching for her cell. "Why don't we all look at the pictures?"

* * *

"Wow!" Kate spun around, her jaw dropping as she took in the apartment. "Wow!"

Castle beamed, watching the smile on her face as she came alive in the space.

"This is… fabulous."

"I can't believe your dad had this place the whole time and you never knew!"

She shrugged, striding through the living room and running a hand along one of the pillars toward the end of the long space. "I lived in the dorms, and then when I was a grad student I lived with friends. Dad said he'd always figured on me living here, but by the time I finished studying, Ramona was on the way, and, well, we weren't talking much anymore."

"Because you were pregnant?" His eyes narrowed, and she shook her head.

"No. No, definitely not. Because he was drinking, and I- I wasn't very understanding."

Kate dropped her gaze. "I… shut him out. I wanted to help him, but… I could barely look after myself, and I had a baby on the way, and…"

"You did your best," Rick promised her, crossing the room and pulling her into his arms.

"Hmmm," she murmured while nodding, her hair brushing against his chin. "He's been properly sober for six months now."

"I'm glad," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead, and then another to her mouth before stepping back, his eyes darting around the room. "So… you're going to partition this off?" He indicated the space behind the pillars.

"Yeah… I think that will work. I can fit a twin bed there, and those skylight windows are something else." She took his hand, walking a couple of steps through the open doorway. "And… I guess this is my bedroom."

He swallowed, stepping over the threshold after her. "Well, Beckett. Do you usually invite men into your bedroom this early in a relationship?"

She bit her lip and stared at him, before dropping his hand as she crossed the room, opening the door opposite. She turned back to him, her eyes sparkling. "I don't usually invite men into my bedroom _or _my bathroom… but look at this!"

He peeked over her shoulder, nodding. Impressive. The tub was centered in the room, but the space was so big that it wasn't impractical. The window ledges were deep, and the tiling old-fashioned but in good shape. The windows were shielded by scalloped wooden shades, adding to the sense of romance and privacy.

"This is… amazing, Kate."

"I know." She whirled around, a smile playing on her lips. "My… where Gabe and I lived- I always hated that apartment. It was so cold- white and clean lines everywhere. But this is perfect." Her eyes shone and he inhaled, closing his as he contrasted this Kate with the woman he'd met in April. He'd missed her all summer, and so many times had picked up his car keys before putting them back down and settling for calling her or sending a message as he'd forced himself to respect the boundaries she'd put in place.

Knowing, now, that her father was beating his own demons, he was doubly glad he'd had the strength to give her the space she'd needed.

"You okay?" she asked, nudging into his side, and he nodded.

"I'm good," he assured her, taking her hand and tugging her back into the bedroom. "Should we check out the kitchen? And then figure out what we need to paint?"

* * *

"Ugh, Rick, you got paint in my hair!" She narrowed her eyes at him as she pulled the strands through her fingertips. Damn him.

Rick wiggled his eyebrows at her. "I can help you wash it out… and hey, I'd be doing you another favor- after all, you need to test your tub out too, right?"

"Really? I have paint in my _hair_ and you're thinking about getting me out of my pants?"

He smirked, running a hand through his hair. "To be completely honest, Kate… it's not often that I'm _not_ thinking about getting you out of your pants."

Kate felt her cheeks warm, her pulse quickening as she hid her blush, turning away to the plastic sheeting on the floor, adjusting it and dipping her roller back into the paint tray. "Well, uh-"

He chuckled, though, and she could see from the corner of her eye that he was crossing the room, closing the distance between them. He plucked the roller from her hand, dropping it back onto the tray and setting his own brush beside it. "Kate?"

She turned back to him, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.

"Kate… I-" He frowned, his brow furrowing, and she stepped toward him.

"What is this to you?" she asked, her voice softer than she'd like, and he ran a hand over his face.

"Well, uh… what is it to you?"

She lifted a shoulder, unable to put voice to any kind of definition.

"I mean… I'm not- I don't want to push. But… Kate, we talked every day over the last few months when you were upstate. We spent hours and hours on the phone. And now you're back, and all I can think is that I want to see you, but then I remember you _just_ split up with your husband, and I don't want to be that guy."

"Which guy?" she asked, taking another step forward, her hand gripping his as she tugged him down so that they were sitting on the floor. Kate crossed her legs underneath her, the plastic crinkling as she shifted, and Rick smiled, reaching out to run a fingertip across her paint-stained jeans.

"The _other_ guy. Or the _rebound_ guy. This isn't just some… _fling_ for me, Kate. I don't have the greatest track record in general. I mean, I know my name gets out there, and I'm on page six, and some of it's true, and some of it… it's just media beat up. But when Meredith cheated on me- even though our relationship was a disaster from start to finish- I swore I would never be that guy. And so, yeah. I'm…"

He trailed off, and Kate nodded, staring across the empty living room and into the kitchen. This room was nearly done, the bricks a fresh pale blue, and the pillars a sharp white, but the rest of the apartment was still tired, the plaster grubby and its paint peeling.

"I've never made this many _choices_ before," she confessed, standing and stretching her hands high over her head. She rolled her neck as she flexed her arms behind her, walking into the kitchen. "I've spent the last decade choosing the path of least resistance. And now…" She smiled, leaning against the open door, a feeling of peace settling upon her. "I've been making choices. Good choices. Choosing to go away for the summer was really important. Not just for me, but for my dad, and Ramona."

He stood too, following her into the kitchen.

"This isn't some fling for me. It's not a one-time thing, and it's not a rebound _affair_. But I have to think of my daughter, and I can't rush into this-"

"I'm not trying to rush you," he promised, and Kate nodded.

"I know. You… you didn't have anything to do with the divorce- you know that, right? My marriage was over… a long time ago." She shook her head, rueful. She'd gone into it with the best of intentions, but there had never been anything there, not really.

"I know."

"But you have turned my life upside-down, so let's… I think we need to take it a day at a time."

He cleared his throat, nodding. "You know what needs to be a daily event? You know, since we're taking it all one day at a time?"

"What?"

"Coffee."

Kate grinned, gesturing to the kitchen. "Until we paint this room I can't really unpack anything," she reminded him. "So… you're not going to find a coffee machine here."

"Do you even have one?"

She shook her head. "No. Now how about you finish painting over there-" she pointed back to the half-finished wall in the living room. "And I'll start with washing the walls down in here so we can move on to this room."

Rick narrowed his eyes. "You don't have a coffee machine?"

"No. Why?"

"_Why_?" His tone was indignant, and she angled her head, confused.

"Why what? I don't have a lot of things. My dad's organizing a truck to bring back some of my mom's furniture for me, and there are a few things I'm taking from Gabe's, but-"

"But you need a _coffee_ machine. I mean… you _love_ coffee." He shook his head, his disapproval clear. "While you start cleaning in here, I'm going to go to the cafe across the street, and bring us back some lunch- and lattes."

* * *

**A/N: Thank you guys for all the support last chapter... as always I appreciate it, as I do the beta read throughs from J&K! x**


	12. Chapter 12

**October 2009**

He balanced the box awkwardly on his hip, knocking on the door with his free hand, a smile on his face. She would love this. She would _absolutely _love this. And if she refused it, or claimed she didn't want it, that changed nothing. She needed it.

He heard the soft thud of Ramona racing to the door, and the more sedate sound of Kate's footfall behind her. "Wait for me," he heard, her voice muffled, and the door swung open, revealing a pajama-clad toddler with a piece of toast in her hand, and - better yet - a pajama clad _Kate_.

"Rick?"

"Hi." He shifted the gift against his side and raised a hand in greeting before returning his hand to the bottom of what was an increasingly heavy object. Dropping it was not an option. "Can I come in?"

"Um. Yes. By all means." She stepped aside, her head tilted in curiosity, and Ramona threw her arms around his leg. "Let him get inside, Sweetheart," Kate scolded her daughter, and the three year old stepped back, staring at the wrapped box.

"What's that?"

"Say 'hello, Rick' first," Kate corrected her, and Ramona giggled.

"Hello, Rick." She pointed. "What's that?"

"I'll show you," he said, walking through to the kitchen and placing it on the table, up the other end to where the breakfast things were laid out. The apartment was taking shape; most of the furniture was in place now, and every time he came here there were less boxes and more order to the shelves.

"So." Kate raised her eyebrows at him. "I didn't quite peg you as a morning person."

"I'm not," he admitted. "But working so many cases with the guys has messed with my schedule, and anyway, this is a morning thing."

"A morning thing?" If Kate's eyebrows made it any higher they'd fall from her face, and he gestured to the table.

"It looks like I interrupted breakfast which means, if I do say so myself, my timing is perfect."

"Yeah. Well." Kate folded her arms over her chest, and Rick grinned. With her make-up free face, her leggings and sleep shirt… she was adorable.

"Don't be shy, I like the look," he assured her. "Now, sit down and carry on with eating."

She shook her head, rolling her eyes but nudging Ramona back into her seat. "Can I get you anything?" she asked.

"No. I'm good." He beamed at her, sliding a finger underneath the tape. "Do you want to open your present?"

"Um, no." She huffed a little, sitting down. "Why don't you go ahead?"

"Okay." He pulled the wrapping paper from the box, letting it fall to the floor, revealing the contents. "I got you a coffee machine!"

Kate's eyes crinkled as she dropped her gaze. "You didn't have to do that," she murmured, and Rick shook his head as he opened the packaging and wrestled the machine from the box.

"Of course I did," he said, placing it on the counter and plugging it in. "Now. I can't stay long, because Gina's hounding me for a chapter, but I think I can start your morning right-" He reached back into the box, pulling out the fresh beans he'd tucked in there when he bought it yesterday, and tipped them into the grinder.

"For me?" Ramona asked with a mouthful of toast, and Rick laughed. Yeah, get the three year old addicted to caffeine. That was the sure-fire way to her mother's heart.

"How about I make you a hot cocoa?"

She nodded, munching on her breakfast as she continued to stare at him, and Kate looked up at him from beneath her lashes, a shy smile on her face. "Thank you."

His breath caught in his throat and he stilled for a moment, trying to capture the moment in his mind; Kate and Ramona so casual and relaxed at the breakfast table, and for a second this was _his_ kitchen, _his_ family. He exhaled slowly; the sheer domesticity of this whole situation was doing things to him. His mind raced, his hands clammy, and he blinked, swallowing.

_One step at a time_.

Rick moved forward, brushing a quick kiss against her cheek - forcing himself to stop at that, in case he captured her mouth with his - before stepping back and turning to the coffee machine. "Okay. Are you ready for the best coffee ever?"

* * *

The words poured from his fingertips; _Nikki_ chased down the bad guys. _Roach_ provided comic relief._ Rook_ was his most nuanced love interest yet; and still something was missing. There was an authenticity to his fictional detective that wasn't there.

"It's good," Gina had admitted, the note of surprise in her tone a sharp bite to his soul. "But I need to _know_ Nikki. I need to _see _her at the scene."

"But- what about her back story?" Rick had asked.

"The back story is great." This confession, too, had been an evidently uncomfortable truth from his ex-wife. "And your readers… we both know they'll buy this story, as is. And if you were anyone else, I'd let it go. I'd love to give you a green light on this. But Rick? You can do better. Go deeper. Trust me."

He'd hung up the phone, scowling because… she was right. She might have been his ex-wife, but she was also his publisher, and she was good. Damn good. And if she said he needed more, he… needed more.

The problem, now, was visualizing the whole thing. He _knew_ Nikki. But Nikki was Kate, there were no two ways about that, and he wanted - no _needed _- to see her at a crime scene. Just once. He could create fiction from fact without any trouble, but he needed to start somewhere. With Rook, Nikki was natural, real; but even with Roach… Ryan and Esposito worked so well together, it was hard to imagine them a team of three. How would they react with another detective in the mix?

He shrugged, pausing mid-sentence and flexing his fingers. Coffee; he needed a break. And he needed to get a handle on Nikki. He wandered out to the kitchen, pouring himself a cup on autopilot as he tried to figure out what to do.

Cop stuff. He could do that. Even without the guys he could do that, although hanging out at the Twelfth certainly added some depth to his story. Not to mention the fact it was fun, even if he was sick of calling shotgun only to be shot down by Ryan or Esposito. Every time. Would it hurt to let him sit in the front for once? Or even drive. He could drive!

Nikki's tragic background; he had that in spades. And the romance was practically writing itself, although he did wonder just what Kate would say when she read his words. Would she see herself? Would she see _them_?

He leaned back against the counter, letting himself slouch, coffee cup in hand, as he stared across the loft.

No matter what came next in the story, he would have to find a way to tell her about Nikki Heat _before _she came across the book in stores.

* * *

Kate's phone rang from across the room and she narrowed her eyes at it, standing with a sigh. Her first night alone in _months_, and if that was Gabe letting her know he couldn't collect Ramona from daycare... She'd kill him. She'd kill him, bury the body… and get arrested by Rick's friends.

_Rick_. His name lit up the screen and she grabbed at it, answering breathlessly. "Hi."

"Hi." He chuckled down the line. "Did I interrupt something?"

"What? No! I was just… reading."

"Oh! Was it _Storm_? Was it a sexy scene with _Clara Strike_-"

"No!" she denied, shaking her head. Every damn time. Could his ego be any healthier? "I don't even _have_ any of your books," she lied, before correcting herself to be a little more truthful. "Not here, anyway."

"Try that box that's still behind the couch," he suggested and she let out a strangled groan of frustration.

"You've been going through my things?" She sidestepped the sofa, crouching down behind it to look in the last of the boxes. Sure enough, one of them was open, the _Castle_ books that had been at the cabin now lying in pride of place above her comics. "I didn't even know my dad sent these," she protested, and he laughed.

"Saw them yesterday when I came round for lunch and Ramona wanted to play cars," he admitted.

"Right. Of course you did."

"Anyway- I know you're free tonight, and I wondered- will you come out with me?"

"Like a date?" Her eyes widened, and she leaned against the back of the sofa. A date? It was too soon. Wasn't it? Or was it?

"I…" He hesitated. "I want to take you out for a date, I really do. But… I was actually planning on getting drinks with a couple of guys from the precinct, and I wondered if you wanted to join us?"

"Oh." She bit her lip, pulling the tender flesh between her teeth. Not a date. But a chance to go out, be an adult, have a drink, and be around grown-up company. That sounded… good. Really good. "Yeah… actually. I… think I'd like that."

"Really?"

She smiled at the surprise in his voice. "Really."

* * *

A summer of abstaining from alcohol while Jim dried out up at the cabin had turned Kate into a lightweight, and the first sip of wine had gone straight to her head, a pleasant but now unfamiliar buzz warming her veins; this felt like the first time she'd had a drink after Ramona was born. The stamina that college girl Kate Beckett had thought would be hers her whole life? Her grasp on that was tenuous, at best.

She looked around, letting her gaze fall across the dimly lit establishment. The dark wood of the walls and the timeworn counter top of the bar were the opposite to the kinds of places she'd imagined Rick visiting; this was grungy and if she had to take a guess, most of the patrons were cops. It was nothing like the glossy, polished bars she'd been to with Gabe at the beginning of their relationship, either, and she smiled, nudging into Rick as she took a sip of the wine he'd carried over to their booth.

"You okay?" he whispered, and she nodded as he checked his phone. "They're on their way," he said, shoving the cell back into his pocket and tapping his fingertips against the table.

"Shouldn't I be the one who's nervous?" she teased.

"You've met Esposito," he pointed out. "And Ryan's a real softy."

"Homicide cops can be _softies_?"

"Wait until you meet him," Rick promised. "You'll see."

"Yo!"

Rick's eyes flashed up and she followed his gaze to the entrance, watching as Esposito swaggered in and headed for the bar, followed closely by a fairer man, and a darker woman.

"Interesting," Rick mouthed under his breath as he raised a hand in greeting. "That's Lanie."

"She's not a cop?"

"Uh-uh." He wrapped a hand around his beer, taking a sip, his eyes never leaving the trio. "She's the medical examiner. I've never even seen her at the precinct before, we usually go down to the morgue to talk to her, so…" He grinned, his eyes lighting up. "You know what I think? I think there's something going on!"

"You-"

"Shh!" he stage whispered as they approached with drinks in their hands. "Kate! You've met Esposito. This is Ryan, and this is Lanie."

Kate offered her hand, greeting them and Rick shuffled around in the booth to give them room, his thigh pressing against hers.

"So. Castle. Where were you this morning?" Ryan asked, and Rick shrugged.

"I, uh- was busy," he hedged, making a face at Kate.

"Busy? At four in the morning? I don't want to know, man," Esposito said, grinning at Ryan, and Rick held up his hands in protest.

"Hey! You get paid to go in at that time of morning. I was asleep. I'm not going in at that hour."

"Yeah, really? I thought following us around was a priceless experience?" Ryan shrugged, and opposite Kate, Lanie laughed.

"You ignore them, Castle. They're just jealous, and from what Javier tells me, they're more than just a little envious of your main character."

Rick coughed. "Well."

"Castle?" Kate asked. "They really do call you that?"

"I _told_ you," he whined, and she laughed, taking another sip of her wine.

"Castle tells us you're a lawyer?" Lanie said, and Kate inclined her head a little in a half shrug.

"An unemployed lawyer," she clarified. "I've been away for the summer, but I'll start job hunting again now we're back in the city."

"Still… sounds a hell of a lot more hygienic than our jobs, some of the time."

"What did I miss this morning?" Rick asked, and the three groaned in unison.

"Floater in the Hudson. Put it this way, man, the good thing about the four a.m. call out was no one had eaten breakfast it was that damn early."

Rick paled, and Kate chuckled, leaning back against the booth. "You must get used to it though, right?"

Lanie nodded. "Sure. The normal ones, you get used to 'em. But this one… there wasn't much left of him!"

Esposito and Ryan made identical faces of disgust and Kate leaned in, fascinated. "So how do you get an ID like that? Dental records?"

"Look at Nancy Drew here," Esposito chuckled. "Tell me, Castle, is an interest in creepy murder a prerequisite for dating you? I mean, it's our job. What's your excuse, Kate?"

"Hush," Lanie insisted, swatting at the Detective, and Kate watched as Rick's eyebrows raised, the pieces obviously falling into place. No question anymore whether Lanie was here with Ryan or Esposito; that familiarity had just given them away.

Kate laughed more easily than she remembered doing in years, draining her wine glass.

"I'll get you another," Rick said, and she stepped out of the booth so that he could make his way past her and to the bar.

She watched him walk away - and that wasn't exactly a hardship, the man sure was something to look at - before sitting back down at the table to find three eager faces staring at her.

"What?" she laughed, and Lanie grinned.

"It's good to meet you, Kate, is all. That man has been talking about you _all_ summer."

She smiled, throwing another glance at the bar to see Rick leaning over, engaged in conversation with the barman. Yeah. Well. If anyone asked her father, they'd probably find out that her conversation this summer had been pretty focused on Rick in turn.

* * *

"You can't invite me up to my own place for coffee," Kate protested, letting Rick guide her from the cab to her front door.

"No. But I can make sure you make it safely inside," he insisted, taking the key from her hand and unlocking the door. "And I'm not going to make you coffee. Not at this time of night. I'm going to make sure you drink a glass of water, and then I'm going to go."

"Okay."

He grinned, taking her hand and leading her up the stairs and she laughed. She was a tiny bit tipsy after more glasses of wine than she was used to, not completely wiped out, and Rick was being a complete sweetheart.

"You're sweet," she whispered, as he unlocked her apartment door, swinging it open and ushering her inside.

"Don't tell anyone," he threatened. "Especially not Ryan and Espo. Did you hear how much crap they were giving me for missing this morning's crime scene? I mean… I want to go to the scenes, but I don't want to see a body like _that_!"

She rolled her eyes, pushing the front door shut and padding after him into the kitchen, accepting the bottle of water he pulled from her fridge.

"I'm going to go," he told her, handing her the bottle, his eyes dark as he nudged into her, his shoulder brushing against hers before he pressed his lips against her mouth. "Because if I stay…"

"If you stay…" she echoed, and he shrugged, pulling away from her, his expression soft.

"If I stay…" He smiled, pressing a kiss to her cheek before pointing at the coffee machine. "Call me. First thing in the morning. If you have any trouble working it, I'll be over right away."

"I can work it," she said, shaking her head, and he wiggled his eyebrows at her as he walked backward toward the front door.

"What can I say, Beckett? I like it when you rely on me for coffee."

"Really? So if I call you to come over at six in the morning, you'll be here?"

He smiled as he opened the door. "Always."


	13. Chapter 13

**October 2009**

Rick looked up from the laptop screen for the tenth time, his eyes falling on Kate before dropping back to the keyboard, and she cleared her throat.

"Can I help you with something?" she asked, and he shook his head.

"No. No, I'm good."

"Is this how you normally write?" If this was his usual practice, she would have to rethink her offer of letting him write here next time. When he'd told her his mother had people over and his options were to hole up in a cafe or sit on her sofa - he'd assured her that he'd written with Alexis underfoot throughout her childhood, and that Ramona wouldn't be a problem - she'd envisioned going about her day while he typed out a chapter. Apparently, though, watching her favorite novelist in action was a hell of a lot less romantic than she'd expected.

For one thing, he couldn't sit still. For another, she wasn't watching him write so much as he was watching her, stabbing at his keyboard occasionally before returning to gaze across the room at her.

"Geez!" she exclaimed at last. "Do you piss Esposito and Ryan off like this?"

"I don't write while I'm at the precinct," he dismissed. "And- hey! I'm not pissing you off!"

"Really? Because you know there's a perfectly good cafe just across the street. If you can't stop staring at me while I try and make lunch, I'm going to send you there!"

"But I want to eat with you guys," he whined, setting his laptop aside on the couch cushions as Ramona clambered up next to him, her favorite picture book in hand.

"Read," she demanded, and Rick laughed, taking it from her and letting her cuddle into him, and Kate watched, her resolve softening.

"Did you come here to write, or to be distracted by my daughter?" she asked.

He shrugged, looking up at her with a twinkle in his eye. "I'm writing!" he lied. "But I'm just taking a lunch break, and, hey, what's the point of writing if it doesn't create good readers?" He held the picture book up to demonstrate before turning back to her daughter and opening the first page, letting Ramona point at the pictures before beginning.

* * *

Writing from Kate's sofa - while less effective than from his own desk - was a hell of a lot more entertaining. Kate, though, was losing patience with him if the increasingly frequent eyebrow raises and eye rolling were anything to go by, and now that Ramona was playing quietly at one end of the long room, he couldn't put this discussion off any longer.

"Are you okay?" he asked at last, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Maybe I should be asking you that?" she said. "You came here to _write_, but I'm not really convinced you've been doing that."

"Well." He shrugged. It was time to come clean. "I kind of… did want to observe you."

"What?"

"I- uh. Well." He ran a hand through his hair, squinting. This was awkward. In his head it had sounded fine. Of course, whenever he'd based a character on someone in the past, they'd known his intentions well before he'd started. "You know this book I'm writing?"

"Uh-huh." Kate stood up, crossing the apartment into the kitchen. "Do you want a coffee?"

"Please." He stood too, following her and leaning against the table. "So, you know I was going to base my characters on Ryan and Esposito."

"Sure," she said, apparently only half listening as she filled the jug with milk. "Raley and someone, right?"

"Ochoa," he confirmed. "Yeah."

"But they're the supporting characters, now aren't they? You said you named your main character _Nikki_?"

"Uh-huh." He nodded, drumming his fingers against the table before clearing his throat. "The thing is, Kate. Well-" She twisted around to make a face at him before turning back to the machine as he stumbled over his words. "She - Nikki, that is - she's based on… um. You."

The coffee machine hissed as Kate jerked the milk too high, steam and liquid flying from the jug and she swore, slamming it down and snatching up the closest dishtowel to wipe at the mess. "She's _what_?" She whirled around and took a step toward him, her arm outstretched as she pointed at his chest. "You've written _what_?"

"It's - uh - a funny story, actually." He swallowed, shifting out of her way before moving to the other side of the kitchen to put the table in between them.

"Funny? Really?"

He shook his head, clenching his fists. Okay. This wasn't going well. On the upside, he was _totally_ starting to get a picture of just how Kate Beckett - and by extension Nikki Heat - would behave questioning an unforthcoming person of interest. He felt the corner of his mouth tug up in the beginnings of a smile as he visualized her in interrogation one at the Twelfth.

"Seriously?" she demanded, and he schooled his features.

"Seriously. You know, when I met you, I'd just killed Derrick Storm, and I owed Gina a book, and then that copycat case happened, and one thing led to another, and I met you, and-"

He cleared his throat. Rambling. She didn't need rambling. She needed answers, and then he needed to get his laptop, and get the hell out of here before she killed him. _Mystery Writer Killed By Angry Muse_. That would be one hell of a headline.

"So, uh… yeah. I kind of based Nikki on you. Because she's just like you- or, well, just how you'd be, if you were a cop instead of a lawyer. You know. Badass. Dedicated. Passionate." She was staring at him, her mouth open, and he lowered his voice as he breathed out the last word. "Extraordinary."

"I…" She closed her eyes, her hand scrubbing over her forehead as her body slumped; no longer eyeing him from across the room, she took a step back, listing across the counter next to the coffee machine. "I'm not a cop, Rick."

"No. No, I know."

"I'm not even a lawyer anymore. I- This… Nikki-"

"Nikki _Heat_."

"Nikki _what_?"

"Heat. Nikki Heat."

"You gave me a _stripper_ name?"

"No, it's a _cop_ name."

"Whatever." She exhaled, her words coming out slowly, fatigue replacing anger. "I'm not a cop, Rick. So if this-" she gestured between them. "Am I real to you, Rick? Or am I just an extension of your imagination?"

"What do you mean? Of course you're _real_ to me."

She shrugged. "If this thing between us is something to feed your stories… How can you base a character on me? If she's a cop? I'm a single mom who is temping right now. I am so scared of being swallowed whole by the corporate world that I'm not even applying for proper jobs."

Rick shook his head, closing the gap between them. He reached out, tentatively hooking his index finger around hers, tugging her to him. "You're… _real_ to me, Kate. And trust me, I know the difference between you and Nikki. Basing her on you doesn't make her you, and it's not Nikki I'm in-" He swallowed the rest of his sentence before he could freak her out any more. "You don't need to be a cop to be extraordinary."

She looked at him, her wry smile not quite reaching her eyes, and he brushed his lips against hers, soft but sure, smiling into her as she returned the kiss before pulling away.

"Want me to make the coffee?" he asked, pointing at the abandoned machine, and she nodded.

"Please."

He pushed the coffee grounds into the portafilter and twisted it before turning back to the milk, steaming it without scorching it this time, and he handed Kate a cup. "Are you okay with this? Because I want you to be okay with this."

She took a sip of her coffee. "I don't know if there are really any guidelines about how a person is supposed to take it when her boyfriend tells her he's writing a book about her."

He grinned. Boyfriend. Yeah, okay, that was accurate, but until now, they hadn't really named this. "Flattered, Kate. Girlfriends are meant to be flattered when their ruggedly handsome author boyfriends base their main character on them."

"Uh-huh." The skeptical expression didn't leave her face but he grinned. He'd told her, and she hadn't thrown him out of here.

* * *

She sighed, sliding down into the sofa and letting the cushions envelop her. "The thing is," she started. "I've never been unemployed for this long before. Even back in school I m-" She pressed her lips together. No. He was already writing a book about her. This was _not_ the moment to tell him she'd done some modeling when she was seventeen. "Anyway. I can't just sit around like this all day, every day."

"You're not unemployed," he pointed out. "You've been working three days a week for a month now."

"As a paralegal instead of as a qualified lawyer," she reminded him. "I'm copying cases for the lawyers there. It's paying the bills, it's not career advancement."

"Well, what do you want to do?"

She lifted a shoulder in frustration. "I don't know. At first when we got back to the city there was so much to do here, and getting Ramona back in a routine was the most important thing. But now we're in a pattern. You know, she stays with Gabe once a week, she goes to daycare again, and meanwhile… I have nothing to do. This temp job is a dead end, and I've already dipped into my savings. But the idea of actually practicing law again just fills me with dread."

"What about something else? I know you- not a defense lawyer, okay. I know that's not an option. But a criminal prosecutor?"

Kate wrinkled her nose. Honestly, the idea of anything like that was just so unappealing. But the bills would keep coming. Her temp job was a three month contract that she didn't want extended and she didn't want to rely on Gabe's money. That wasn't her; Ramona would connect them for the rest of their lives, but she didn't want to be tied to him financially.

"Or, I don't know. What did you want to do when you were younger? Before you wanted to be a lawyer? If you want to be an author I can set up a meeting for you-" He wiggled his eyebrows.

Kate rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "I don't want to be a _writer_, Rick."

"Okay." He smirked. "Well, what then?"

"You'll laugh. And it's too late anyway. I mean, I'm nearly thirty. I think-" She clapped her hand over her mouth. Too late. It was too late. Wasn't it? Or _was it_?

"You think what?" He was leaning in toward her, his eyes wide, as he waited for her to finish her sentence.

"I think that even though I decided to ditch the idea of being a cop, I've never really forgotten just how badly I wanted that, back when my mom died."

She exhaled, her eyes closing now the truth was out. She _had _wanted that, and while she'd bitten the ambition back after they'd caught her mom's killer, the need for justice had lingered, dormant until a few twists of fate had forced her hand; forced her to reassess what she really wanted.

"Yeah. That's what I wanted. I wanted to be a homicide cop."

"And now, Kate? Is it what you want now?"

She looked up at him; his piercing blue stare meeting her own. "I… I don't want to rush it, Rick. I made a lot of really fast decisions in my life."

She glanced over at Ramona; her three year old was sticking her tongue out in concentration as she constructed a colorful wall of blocks. She would never regret her daughter, or the choices that had led her here, but there was a nagging voice in the back of her mind that insisted she was finally where she needed to be. If she hadn't been so determined to take the path of least resistance - going to law school, marrying Gabe - she would have made it here a hell of a lot sooner.

Homicide cop.

Rushing the decision now wouldn't do anyone any favors though.

Ramona smashed the blocks over, laughing as the sound reverberated around the room, before running over to Kate and diving into her lap. "Knocked it over," she said, the satisfaction evident in her voice as she cuddled into her mom.

"You sure did," Kate agreed, tucking Ramona's hair behind her ear and kissing her head. She looked back at Rick, smiling at last. "I'm not saying I'm going to do it. And this is _not _because of Nikki Heat."

Rick chuckled, a grin wide on his face.

"Maybe - just maybe - next time Ryan and Esposito call you to a scene and you want me to come with you, I will."

* * *

**A/N: Thank you all so much for your great reviews and tweets last chapters, and thanks of course to K&J for the beta-goodness. **


	14. Chapter 14

**November 2009**

"She was just so upset," he said, running his free hand through his hair as he pressed his cell to his ear. "I've never seen her like that before. I mean, I try and shield her from all this. But this- she knew before I did, and Kate, you should have seen her face. I was playing guitar hero and I-"

"You play guitar hero?" she interrupted with a laugh. "Wait. No. I mean, that's not important right now."

"No," he said. "But yeah. Why? You want to play with me sometime?"

From the front of the police issue vehicle he heard Esposito groan, and he narrowed his eyes at the back of the detective's head.

"You don't see me calling my girlfriend every time a body drops," Ryan mumbled, and Rick redirected his glare.

"Anyway." He cleared his throat. "I may need to take a rain check on dinner tonight, okay? Because I know we were going to do something, but I think Alexis needs me."

"Of course," she said. "That's good, anyway. Gabe called, and he can't take Ramona tonight, so I was going to have to change our plans anyway."

"Oh." He nodded, as Ryan pulled up in front of the precinct. "Okay."

"But we'll talk?" she asked, and he smiled.

"Definitely."

He ended the call as Ryan killed the engine, but following the guys into the precinct, his mind remained on Kate and their phone call. How could Gabe think it was okay to cancel on Ramona like that? He grimaced. Kate's ex was a male version of Meredith. A male, consistently employed version of Meredith, granted, but a version of his ex-wife nonetheless; someone who put their career ahead of their family.

"So what do you think?" Ryan asked, and he shrugged.

"About?"

"The case, man," Esposito said, fixing him with a strange look, and Rick shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts and get back into it.

"Angry fan?" Castle attempted, and Ryan wrinkled his nose as they walked into the building.

"Really? That's all you've got?"

"Hey!" Castle raised his hands in protest. "You guys are the detectives, I'm just here to observe!"

"Uh-huh. That's why you want a service weapon and why you insist on that vest? Because you're really committed to staying in the car?"

"Yeah. Well." Rick huffed at the sarcasm, holding the elevator door for the guys. "I do like a certain level of credibility, you know?"

Esposito snorted, exchanging a glance with Ryan, and Rick stared straight ahead. Fine. They could be like that. When he went to the cafe across the road for a coffee break later he wouldn't bring one back for them; they could drink the precinct sludge.

The elevator door chimed as they reached the fourth floor, and he strode into the bull pen after the boys.

"Castle," Montgomery called, stepping out from his office. "It's about time you got back. We've got a very persistent citizen waiting to ask you some questions."

Rick turned, his head tilting to the side as he focused on his daughter. "Alexis?"

* * *

Rick turned his key in the lock. Nothing was going the way he'd planned today. Dinner with Kate. Canceled. His perfect daughter. Upset and skipping study hall. The homicide. More disturbing than the average murder of the week, every facet of their victim's too-short life disturbing. He swung the loft door open, his senses flooded all at once by a hive of activity.

"Rick!" Ramona cried, dropping her stuffed animal onto the floor and running from the sofa toward him.

"Hey!" He picked her up, laughing, and headed for the kitchen. "Well. This is a surprise."

"She cooks, Richard," Martha said with a smug nod, looking up from where she was standing beside Alexis at her laptop.

He grinned at his mother. Kate did indeed cook, and well, but he knew that already. This though, was something else altogether. Not only was Kate cooking, but she was cooking in his kitchen, looking for all the world like she belonged there. Casual in jeans and a tee, her feet clad only in socks - he glanced back at the entrance to see her heels by the door - she reached up on her tiptoes for a glass.

He rounded the counter, leaning in to brush a soft kiss against Kate's cheek before putting Ramona back on the floor, and accepting the wine she'd poured for him.

Alexis grinned. "I called Kate when you told me to go back to school-"

"Really?" Rick narrowed his eyes at his girlfriend. "You didn't encourage her truancy did you? I know Captain Montgomery said they don't have truant officers any more, but I'm sure I can sort something out."

Kate laughed. "Do I look like I would encourage Alexis to skip school?" she asked, nuzzling into him before turning back to the pasta sauce on the stove top. "I met her here an hour ago."

"Fine, okay. Maybe not," he huffed. "And I think it's very sweet that she called you. And even more amazing that you're cooking dinner." He grinned, turning to Alexis. "Hey. If you killed someone, you would tell me, right?"

Alexis nodded. "Of course. I'd need help hiding the body."

"Morbid much?" Kate asked, and he laughed.

"You get used to it," Alexis said, turning back to her laptop, and Rick looked at her.

"What are you listening to?"

"It's Hayley's last performance," Martha said. "She hasn't stopped listening to it all night. It's called Threshold."

"Oh, yeah? Sounds pretty. Little creepy, though."

"How's it creepy?" Alexis asked. "Kate, you don't think it sounds creepy, do you?"

Kate raised her eyebrows at Martha, who nodded. "Alright, Kiddos, if you're all going to overanalyze this song - and talk case details - Ramona and I are going to go back over to the living room and finish the book we started before you came home."

"Book," Ramona echoed, trotting after Martha without a second glance.

"So what did you find out today?" Alexis asked. "You met the rest of the band, right?"

"I did." Rick grimaced. "Don't ever date someone who doesn't shower."

"Ew." Alexis turned up her nose. "Who would do that?"

Kate cleared her throat. "Stinky grunge guitarists aside… What _else_ did you find out?"

"Hayley Blue had a sister, a stalker and a dealer, and we spoke to all of them. We also spoke to the couple who paid for her rehab and let her stay with them when she got out. I feel so bad for them. They wanted to help her, but…"

"And she has a sister?" Kate asked.

"Uh-huh." Rick reached an arm around Alexis, squeezing her. "Sky. She was a mess, an absolute mess. She was absolutely wasted when she saw Hayley's body."

"People make bad decisions when they're hurting," Kate said, and he smiled at her.

"Yeah. But if you're thinking about your dad… you know he's doing well, now. He's got you. Families pull together, even if they don't get it right every time."

"Hey!" Alexis interrupted. "Look at this message. They're saying the band is getting back together, and Hayley's sister is going to be the lead singer."

"Well," Kate said. "Who would benefit from that?"

The three of them gathered around the laptop. "The manager." Rick pulled his cell from his pocket to message Esposito, asking Kate. "You want to come in to the precinct tomorrow? Watch them take this guy down?"

* * *

"Are you sure it's okay for me to be here?" Kate asked again, and Rick nodded, turning around to face her as they stepped into the precinct's elevator.

"Totally," he said, reaching out and entwining his hand with hers. "I told the boys you'd be here, and they're cool."

"Okay." She frowned, bringing her free hand up and pushing her hair behind her ears; the split second decision last night to come with Rick today was making her nervous, and her heart thudded in her chest.

"And might I say, you're looking awfully _detectivey_ today… Beckett."

"What?"

He reached over, selecting the fourth floor, and the elevator doors slid shut. "Your leather jacket." He nodded. "It's nice. Very _Detective Beckett_, instead of _Lawyer Kate_."

"Really?" She shook her head, biting her lip. Maybe this was a mistake? Maybe she should have stayed home, instead of asking her dad to watch Ramona? Maybe she should have thought this through a little more?

"Yeah. You know what they say," Rick continued. "Dress for the job you want, not the job you have."

"Uh-huh." She rolled her eyes. "Shouldn't I be in a uniform then? If I do this, I'm not exactly going to start out as a detective, am I?"

"Oooh!" He chuckled, his eyes widening, and she suppressed her groan. "A uniform. You're right. I could _totally_ get on board with you in a-"

"Let's leave your fantasies out of this, shall we?" she asked, as the elevator pinged and the doors slid open, revealing the bull pen.

She felt her lips curve up of their own accord; the bustle was the same as she remembered from last time, the open floor plan welcoming, and as they stepped from the elevator, a man strode toward them. "Castle," he said. "And who's this?"

She extended her hand. "Kate Beckett, Sir."

"Captain Roy Montgomery." He took her hand, shaking it. "Castle here tells me you're looking for a little career change."

"I wouldn't go that far," she said, throwing a glare at Rick.

The Captain chuckled, releasing her hand. "Well, the mayor wants Castle here, so any friend of Rick's is a friend of mine."

"Have they brought him in yet?" Rick asked, and the Captain nodded, gesturing through the bull pen. "They've just stepped into the box. Go right ahead. You know where observation is."

Rick nodded. "Thanks, Sir."

"You're welcome. And Ms. Beckett?" Kate nodded as Montgomery spoke again. "It's a rewarding career, and sometimes, just sometimes, we get the chance to make things right. You're very welcome here."

"Thank you, Sir."

She let Rick guide her through the bull pen, her eyes skating over the scene before her. The desks with their array of personal objects and photographs competing with paperwork and phones and computers. The white board, Hayley Blue's picture front and center. The whirlwind of activity as uniforms and plain clothes alike consulted one another. Phones shrilled, and the scent of bad coffee permeated the air.

"When I started here, Montgomery just kept making me sign paperwork to the effect that my lifeless remains wouldn't sue the city," Rick complained, and she grinned. "I don't know why you're so special or why you're so welcome here."

She grinned. "Come on, Rick, they love having you here. You know that, right?"

He shrugged, but his lips curled up and the small smile gave him away as he admitted. "Yeah. I know." He pushed a door open to reveal an observation room. "One way glass," he told her, and she looked through it to see the backs of Esposito and Ryan as they stared down their suspect.

"I told you, Sunday night I was in Philly scouting a band. I hit a motel. I watched a little pay-per-view and I went to bed, which may say something about my taste, but it does not make me a criminal."

"But your rap sheet does," Ryan said, and Beckett leaned in as he continued. "Six counts of misdemeanor possession, two counts of felony possession with the intent to distribute." The detective's voice was cool, detached, and she shivered, captivated. She'd shared a drink with Ryan and Rick just last week, but watching him in action was spellbinding. She nodded along as Esposito spoke.

"What do you do, McGinnis? Give them a little taste? Make them need you? Make them depend on you?"

The manager answered, and beside her, Rick shuddered.

"Skeevy," he murmured, and she turned to see him grimace in distaste.

* * *

"So what did you think of the interview?" Esposito asked, leaning against his desk, and Kate pursed her lips together as she grappled for an answer. Horrible. Wonderful. Rick's word, _skeevy_, stuck with her. It had been everything. It had woken a craving within her; she'd wanted to be in that room, staring down the suspect instead of watching from observation.

"Compelling," she said at last. "Disturbing."

"Yeah. That guy was gross." Ryan shrugged. "But he didn't do it, his alibi's solid."

"His phone records aren't, though," Rick said, running a highlighter across a page and handing it to Esposito.

"A ten minute phone call to Zack, the guitarist, the day before Hayley died. Right, let's go." Esposito stood up, nodding at Kate and Rick. "We'll see you back here in a bit."

"Wait, what? Aren't we coming with you?"

"You can," Ryan said. "But Kate hasn't signed a waiver yet."

"You can go ahead," Kate told him, but Rick shook his head.

"No. Fine. We'll wait here," he grumbled. "Except not here. Because the coffee's terrible." He wrinkled his nose and stood, gesturing for Kate to precede him to the elevator.

* * *

"How do you do this, week in, week out?" Kate asked, and beside her, Rick shrugged.

"At first it was fun. You know. Interesting. Intriguing. It really was about the books, and about trying to come up with a story and some authenticity." He laughed, leaning his head back in the booth and sipping his coffee. "A little bit about keeping Gina off my back, too. But that all just kind of fell away, after a bit, and now… it's about knowing that I'm doing my part in making the world a little safer."

Kate nodded, sipping her own coffee and closing her eyes as the buzz of the caffeine made its way into her veins. "Not everyone can be protected," she countered. "It's too late by the time you're helping them."

"To help them, yes. But it's not too late to make it right. And if we can get someone off the streets, maybe we're making it safe for someone else."

"Like my mom," Kate mused aloud. "It's too late for her. But her killer's behind bars, and that's a good thing."

"I guess I do this for Alexis, in a way," Rick said. "Because I want her to grow up in a world where she's safe."

"I want that for Ramona too," Kate said. "God. There are so many things to keep them safe from. I worry about her every day, you know. She's so little, but she's old enough that she'll remember Gabe and I divorcing."

"But she's doing okay, isn't she?" Rick asked, nudging into her and laying his hand on her thigh.

"I think so. We had such a great summer, and so I think when we came back to the city and we were suddenly living somewhere new… she just kind of went with the flow."

"And she sees him every week, except for yesterday," Rick pointed out. "Maybe it's not enough, but trust me, Meredith saw Alexis a lot less."

"Yeah. And she has my dad. And she adores you and Alexis, and Martha. I think she's okay."

"She's fine," he promised her. "She's got you as her mom. She's great."

* * *

Kate leaned into Rick, Ramona on her hip, Alexis and Martha standing beside them, as she gazed up at the band. On the stage, Sky breathed new life into the song that had been playing on repeat in the loft all week, telling the story of her sister's killer betraying her long before he'd finally pulled the trigger.

Snuggled into her, Ramona threaded her hands through her hair, bobbing in time to the music.

"Mommy, love you," she said, planting a kiss on Kate's cheek, and Kate squeezed her daughter.

"I love you too, Sweetheart," she said, looking back up at the stage and smiling at Sky. How would this young woman manage without any family? Would she throw herself into music? Or would addiction catch up with her eventually?

"She's gonna be okay, right?" she whispered, and Rick nodded, squeezing her hand.

"She's going to be okay."

* * *

**A/N: This chapter was a little later than I****'d planned, but we're back on track now, and the next is just a few days away. Many thanks to K & J for their beta work! **


	15. Chapter 15

**December 2009**

"What do you _mean_ you want Ramona for Christmas?"

Kate squeezed her eyes shut as she listened to her ex-husband on the other end of the phone.

"You stole her away all summer. I want Christmas."

He couldn't do this. Not at Christmas. Not after six months of apathy. "I didn't _steal _her away all summer. I told you exactly where we were, and every single time you wanted to see her I dropped everything to drive four hours back to the city and make sure she knew her dad still loved her."

"Of course I love her." Now Gabe was raising his voice, and she sighed, burying her face in her hands. "But once a week for a sleepover isn't enough. I collect her from daycare and put her to bed, and you pick her up in the morning. How is that fair?"

"Nothing about this is _fair_, Gabe, but if you weren't such a workaholic you'd see her more often."

"Don't put this on me, Kate. One of us needs to work a real job. I'm happy for you that you're finding yourself-" Kate shook her head; from the sarcastic sound to his tone he was anything but happy for her, "-but don't pretend like I need to stop what I'm doing just because you're living the life of leisure with your rich boyfriend and making do with temp work."

"My _what_?"

On the end of the phone line, Gabe scoffed. "Ramona talks, Kate. Everything is Rick this, Rick that. I know you're seeing someone. Hell, I know all about Alexis and Martha, too."

"It's not like that," she said, biting her lip. She hated this; she didn't have to justify her relationship to anyone. "I can see people. I can have friends. Besides, we're not married anymore. And-"

Gabe laughed, bitterness bleeding through. "The divorce isn't final yet," he reminded her. "But look. I don't care, Kate. See whomever you want. Do whatever you want. But just know, _I_ want to take Ramona to Long Island for Christmas. Your dad got to spend the whole summer with her. What's so wrong with my parents getting to see their granddaughter too? It'll be three nights. Four, tops. And she needs to know her cousins. Everyone's going to be there."

Not everyone. Kate concentrated on breathing in and out. She wouldn't be there. Rick wouldn't be there. Alexis and Martha wouldn't be there. And neither would Jim. But she couldn't deny the truth to Gabe's words; Ramona deserved to know the rest of her extended family.

"She hasn't been away from me for that long before," she said.

"Kate. She'll be okay. She's here every week, and she's _fine_. She's been going to my parents' place since she was a baby." He paused before continuing, his voice softening. "I'm not doing this to hurt you. And you know if I thought she wouldn't be able to handle it I wouldn't push it."

Kate nodded as she conceded. He was right. And if it hurt her, well, so be it. Ramona would be okay with Gabe and his family for a few days. "Fine," she managed, tears stinging her eyes, and she swallowed, trying to catch her breath. He was her father; he deserved time with her too. She had spent Christmas alone before, every year since her mom had died, until she was pregnant with Ramona. She could do it again. "Fine. Three nights."

* * *

"Oh, Kate."

"It doesn't matter," she insisted. "I'm not much of a Christmas person anyway. I mean, it's just-" She shook her head, and he felt his face fall. This was taking on such a different tone to their usual dinner dates when Gabe had Ramona. "You look like I just ran over a puppy. Rick, not everyone likes Christmas. It's always been hard for me, and I've always forced myself to celebrate for Ramona. So this year we'll just… do it differently. Okay?"

"Okay." He reached across the table, taking her hand in his, unable to force a smile. Like she'd run over a puppy indeed. He loved Christmas, and if the festive season wasn't as magical for Kate as it was for him, that was heartbreaking, not something he was just going to accept.

No, Christmas was meant to be thrilling, wonderful. It was supposed to mean cookies, and hot chocolate and eggnog and mistletoe, and if it meant something else for Kate, he needed to figure out a way to change that.

"We'll do something else," he promised her. "Something special, so that Ramona gets Christmas with you, too. Alexis, Mother and I celebrate on Christmas Eve. You should join us, and you can take her to his place on Christmas Day."

She shook her head, tears forming in her eyes. "I'm taking her over to his place on Christmas Eve. Then I'm going back in the morning so we can all unwrap gifts together, and then he's taking her to Long Island."

"But that's not fair!"

She shrugged, raising her wine glass to her lips and taking another sip before putting it back on the table and pushing her plate away. "Can we just go, Rick? I'm sorry- I shouldn't have come out with you tonight, I'm bad company."

"You're not," he said. "You're allowed to be sad, Kate."

He raised a hand, indicating for the waiter to bring the check. This had been a bad idea. He'd wanted to do something special, take advantage of having Kate to himself for a night, take her out on a proper date, but instead she was miserable.

The waiter brought the check over, and he signed for their meal with a sigh.

"You were right," she said, as they stood and he helped her into her jacket.

"I was? About?"

"Back when we first met. You told me not to kid myself, that divorce would be hard no matter what, and you're right. When Gabe and I split up I was only thinking about myself. But now I know that I'm spending Christmas without my kid…" She trailed off, and he brushed his mouth against her temple, his hand finding the small of her back as he guided her from the restaurant.

"Shhh," he whispered. "You'll be there as she unwraps her gifts, and she'll be back before you know it."

* * *

Kate raised a hand to knock. How had this been her apartment less than a year ago? As recently as July she'd had a key, walked these halls every day. And now she was a stranger here. Even the doorman downstairs barely knew her; he'd started over the summer and to him she was the ex-wife, rather than a resident.

She tapped her hand against the door, smiling as she heard the thud of Ramona's feet and the cry of "Mommy!" through the heavy wood.

"Hey, Kate." Gabe's smile was empty as he opened the door, and she nodded at him as Ramona flung herself into her arms.

"Hey," she returned, kissing Ramona and squeezing her tight, the ache in her heart lessening now her daughter was in her arms. "Merry Christmas, Sweetheart!"

"Mommy! Santa came, and we have presents!" Her daughter thrashed against her, scrambling to get down, and Kate laughed, putting her on the floor and following her through the apartment to the living room. Not much had changed since she'd left. Their wedding photograph was gone, but otherwise it looked much the same. The same white, clean lines that she'd hated for so long. "Look!" Ramona pointed at the gifts under the perfectly trimmed tree, and she nodded. Gabe had done a nice job playing Santa. "Look, all for me!"

"It's not all for you," Gabe reminded her. "Remember? I told you, we're taking some of these to Nana and Pop's for your cousins."

"Uh-huh." Ramona nodded, sliding across the floor and coming to a stop in front of the fireplace. "Mommy, you come too?"

Kate shook her head, taking a seat on the edge of the sofa. "We talked about this," she reminded her. "Just you and Daddy with your cousins for Christmas for the next few days."

"You go with Rick? I wanna see Alexis!" Ramona said, and Kate frowned as Gabe's expression darkened. He could say he was okay with Rick all he wanted, but she figured it had to sting, knowing she was in a new relationship. Not that Ramona only talked about Rick, Alexis and Martha; she was well aware, thanks to the three year old's chatter, that Gabe was seeing someone new as well.

"Mmm, maybe I'll go see Rick. And we'll both go see Alexis when I pick you up in a few days," she said, pointing at the presents. "Are you going to unwrap yours?"

"With you," Ramona insisted, plopping down on the floor and patting the space beside her.

"Okay." Kate kicked her shoes off - and yeah, she was a little satisfied by the look of annoyance that flashed across her ex-husband's face; he'd always taken issue with the way she left her shoes lying around - and padded across the floor, pulling her daughter into her lap and pointing at the closest gift. "Okay. You want to open this one?"

* * *

Kate stared across her empty apartment, the silence deafening. No matter how many times Rick had insisted she come to the loft and share a meal with him, Martha and Alexis, she hadn't been able to give in. Leaving Ramona alone at Gabe's this morning had been hard enough; she didn't need to bring that sorrow into Rick's life.

Now, at seven in the evening, she had no idea if she had made the right decision. Maybe she was wallowing; Gabe had accused her of as much when she'd left his apartment this morning and she tossed her book to the side. She had no idea what had happened on the previous ten pages, knew that she wouldn't be able to concentrate on the next ten either, and a sigh escaped. She stood up, stretching and walking toward her bedroom, willing this day to be over.

Was going to bed ridiculously early on Christmas Day pathetic? Probably. But she didn't think she even cared. She just had to get through the next day, and the next. Then her daughter would be back, and she could forget this miserable excuse for a holiday had ever happened.

From the kitchen, the shrill pitch of her cell sounded, and she turned toward it. If that was Gabe, and he needed her help with Ramona after shutting her out like this-

She frowned at the name on the screen.

_Dad_.

She hadn't spoken to Jim at Christmas since the first year that it had been just the two of them. A memory flashed into her mind, and she shuddered at the image. Christmas Day, 1999. That had been the first - but not the last - time that she'd found her father passed out.

"Hello," she whispered into the phone, and the voice on the other end was as quiet and hoarse as her own.

"Hi, Katie," he rasped, and she inhaled a sharp breath. _No_. Not today. Her dad could _not_ fall apart today.

"Are you okay?" she asked, only to be met with silence.

"I'm okay," he said at last and she shook her head, pressing her fingertips to her temple.

"You… don't sound so good, Dad."

"I… just wanted to hear your voice." She nodded, sinking down onto one of the chairs at the table.

"Are you at home?" She could catch a cab across town, if he needed her. Maybe they could stumble through the rest of the holiday together. She swallowed. She should have thought about this before now, instead of being so caught up in her own problems.

"No. I'm up at the cabin," he said, and she frowned.

"Really? I didn't know you were going up there."

"I couldn't stay in the city, I came up two days ago."

"Yeah? Is it snowing there?"

"Uh-huh." He sounded better now, the hitch in his voice evening out. "You know, you should bring Ramona up here. She'd love it in winter."

Kate let out a humorless laugh. "Gabe has her," she admitted. "Until Sunday."

"Oh." Jim was silent for a second. "Looks like both of us are having a pretty crappy Christmas."

"Yeah," she agreed.

"I, uh-" The rasp was back in his voice and Kate flinched. "I bought a bottle of scotch at the store yesterday. It's… on the counter in the kitchen."

Kate closed her eyes. "Is- did you open it?"

"I opened it, and poured a glass, but I didn't drink it."

"Okay." She slumped down in her chair. What was she supposed to say? "Don't drink it, Dad. Tip it out."

"I'm going to," he agreed, and she nodded.

"Good. You don't need it."

"Good night, Katie," he said, ending the call and leaving her staring at her cell. She blinked back the tears. She had to pull herself together. She stared at the phone a moment longer, before punching down on the screen and scrolling through her contact list, tapping Rick's name and bringing the phone back to her ear.

"Hi, Kate."

His voice was a balm to her soul and she bit her lip before speaking. "Hi."

"You okay?" She felt her lips twitch up in the beginnings of a smile as his question echoed the one she'd just asked her dad.

"I'm okay," she lied. "But I just talked to my dad, and I'm worried about him."

"What's wrong?"

"He's up at the cabin, and he's been sober most of this year, but I think the holidays are hitting him hard."

"Well, why don't you head up there?"

She shook her head as she murmured, "I can't."

"Why not?"

"The cabin's four hours upstate, and I don't have a car."

"Yes you do," he said. "You drove it up there in the summer."

"No." She laughed, the sound bitter to her ears. "That was Gabe's car."

"Oh." She heard a scuffling sound in the background, and the hum of voices and she clenched her fist; she shouldn't have called and interrupted. He was probably explaining the interruption to Alexis and Martha. "Half an hour, okay?" he said, and she narrowed her eyes.

"What?"

"We'll be there in half an hour. Alexis and I. We'll drive upstate together, make sure your dad's okay."

"You- _what_?" she said again, and Rick chuckled down the line.

"You're having a shitty Christmas, Kate. And I know you're on some kind of quest to be miserable while you don't have Ramona with you, and I wasn't going to push no matter how much I wanted you here for Christmas dinner last night, and no matter how much I thought you should come over to play board games with us tonight."

"Um-"

"So Alexis and I are going to pack a few things, and we'll be at your place to pick you up in half an hour. You may not have a car, but I do, and there won't be much traffic. We'll be there by midnight."

"I-"

She heard a beep as Rick ended the call, and she shook her head. What, exactly, had just happened?

* * *

**A/N: Thank you guys so much! We're three quarters of the way there, so tracking well for getting the fic wrapped up before I go away for the summer! ****Thanks K&J for beta-duty!**


	16. Chapter 16

**December 2009**

Twenty minutes after their phone call, Rick was knocking on Kate's door, Alexis beside him, their overnight bags packed in record time and thrown in the trunk before driving the few short miles between SoHo and the East Village.

"I can't believe I haven't been over here yet," Alexis said, her forehead furrowed in consternation. "Kate doesn't hate me for not visiting before now, does she?"

"What?" Rick shook his head, frowning at his daughter. "Why would she-" The door swung open and striding into the apartment, he folded Kate into his arms.

He breathed in, taking in her scent as he held her, running his hands over her back. She sank into him, and he squeezed tighter, willing the tension from her slight frame. If he could just hug it away.

Behind him, Alexis cleared her throat, and he released Kate, letting her step back and taking her in properly; her eyes were red and tell-tale smudges of dark make-up told him she'd been crying.

"Hey," she managed, a wry smile on her face.

"Hey," he murmured, as Alexis closed the door behind them.

"Hi, Kate," she whispered, her eyes focused on the ground, and Kate's smile widened as she stepped forward, embracing his daughter.

"Hey, Merry Christmas, Alexis," she said, offering a small laugh. "Not what you had planned for today, I'm sure."

"Christmas is all about family." There was a fierceness in her eyes, and he tilted his head, seeing something new in her; he'd known she liked Kate - and Ramona - but there was something more to her expression. Love. He swallowed. It wouldn't do to lose it here and now; the situation was already emotionally fraught enough without him scooping them both into a group hug.

But he was man enough to admit to himself he'd come close to making the same confession - albeit that _he _was in love with Kate - many times before today. He'd bitten it back every time, unable to get a read on Kate and unwilling to rush things.

He shrugged to himself. Rushing things? No. They'd been doing slow, he and Kate, and it was damn near killing him.

It was time to move forward, and if Christmas and New Year's wasn't the right time of year for new traditions, he didn't know when was.

"This place is amazing," Alexis said, breaking the silence and Kate nodded, biting her lip as she followed Alexis' gaze around the room. "Did dad really help you paint it?"

"Mmmhmm." She grinned. "He's responsible for the coffee machine, too."

"Of course he is."

"You know there's only a French Press up at the cabin." Kate laughed, turning to face him. "Are you sure you want to do this?" She dropped her gaze, her eyes on her feet. "Because… it's a long drive. And it's Christmas."

Rick nodded. Stepping forward again and reaching out, he rested his hand on her arm, letting his thumb brush back and forth against her sweater. "Exactly. It's Christmas. Are you ready to go?"

* * *

Kate leaned her head against the window, staring ahead. The roads were clear; everyone else was probably tucked up at home, cozy and safe. Of course, everyone else wasn't dashing upstate on a whim to see their alcoholic father in an attempt to hold him together.

"You okay," Rick asked, reaching over to the center console to turn the Christmas carols down, and she shrugged.

"Kinda worried about coming out here," she admitted.

"About coming out here, or about leaving Ramona?"

"Hmmm. Both, I guess. I mean, I know she's fine, but…"

"Did you talk to her tonight?" Alexis asked, speaking up from the back seat, and Kate twisted around to smile at her.

"Uh-huh. She was - well, she was hyped up." She laughed. "She's there with her cousins. My sis- _ex_-sister in law and her husband live in Ohio, and they've come over for Christmas with their kids."

"That's good," Alexis said. "It's good she's got other kids around."

Kate nodded. "You were on your own, growing up? Or do you have cousins?"

Alexis chuckled, and Kate caught the anxious look that Rick cast into the rearview mirror. "Just me," she said.

"And, Well… there's your mom's brother's kids?" Rick interjected.

"Right. I don't think it counts if I haven't met them," she pointed out.

Rick shrugged. "Maybe not," he grumbled. "But you had me."

"I did." Alexis beamed, and Kate turned back around, relaxing into the passenger seat, her glance at Rick catching the smug smile of pride on his face.

"So Ramona's okay with her grandparents?" Alexis continued, and she nodded.

"Yeah. They're good people, I guess. And they love her." She hesitated. "Probably glad to see the back of me, though."

"What?" The indignation in Rick's voice caught her by surprise, and she reached a hand over, resting it on his thigh. "But," he said, annoyance bleeding through, "how could anyone be glad to see the back of _you_?"

Kate moved her hand up his thigh an inch, before pulling back and folding her hands together, resting them in her own lap, away from temptation. "Uh… I think they never really thought I was good enough for their son. They were always… wary. Because of my mom."

"Your mom?" This time it was Alexis who spoke up, and Kate breathed out slowly, her eyes on the road in front of them. The headlights illuminated the otherwise pitch black stretch of highway, and she watched as the shadows from the trees raced away ahead of them, always pushed back by the bright yellow light.

"I guess they were always a little mistrustful. It's not - when your mom dies in random gang violence, it - there were a lot of questions. About why she was there. In that alley, that day." She shook her head, and Alexis huffed out a sigh from behind her.

"But it's not your fault, or your mom's!" she cried, and Rick shot her a warning look.

"Alexis."

She turned around again. Alexis' eyes were flashing, and Kate shook her head. "It's okay," she said, and Alexis pursed her lips, rebellion brewing in her expression.

"It's not," she countered, and Kate smiled at her.

"It was a long time ago, okay?"

"Did you ever find out why your mom was there, that day?" Castle asked, and she jerked back to fix him with a glare. He lifted a hand from the steering wheel. "Sorry. No. I was just-"

Kate frowned, closing her eyes again for a moment. "Can we just-"

"Drop it," he finished for her. "Yeah. Sorry."

"It's okay," she breathed, bringing her thumb to her mouth and gnawing down on the nail before dropping her hand back against the arm rest. She slumped against the seat, the neon glow of the clock on the dashboard catching her eye. Eleven-twenty. "Almost there. There's another bend -" she pointed - "and then two hundred yards later, we take the exit. We go through the town, and then swing left past the cafe."

"_The_ cafe? As in, the town has _one_ cafe?"

"And their coffee sucks," she informed him, sitting up a little straighter in her seat and grinning as she teased him. "But don't worry, Rick, our cabin's a good way out of town, and I doubt they're even open this week, so I won't make you go there."

Ramona might not be there; not this time. She would make the drive back to the city in another day or two, collect her daughter. But right now, her dad needed her, and with Rick and Alexis here, she was almost home.

* * *

The roads had been clear the whole way from the city, but snow crunched beneath the car's tires as Rick turned into a long driveway at Kate's instruction. The town they'd driven through - if you could call it that - had been a blink and you'd miss it excuse of a place, and in the twenty minutes since they'd passed the café, silence had fallen in the car.

"This whole place is your dad's?" he asked as he guided the car the last couple of hundred yards, pulling up behind an old station wagon.

"Mmm, we have from here, all the way down to the lake." She pointed into the darkness, her hand spanning the space in front of them as she indicated. "And the property goes all the way over there. Our closest neighbor is a good ten minute walk away."

"Amazing," he said, pulling the key from the ignition and killing the headlights even as a porch light flickered on, illuminating the snowy yard.

"Guess my dad's still up," Kate whispered, her hands gripping the car seat so tight that he saw, as he opened his own door, how white her knuckles had become.

Rick nodded, turning back to her and placing a gentle kiss on her cheek before hooking his index finger into hers, urging her up and she smiled at him.

"You ready to meet him?" she teased, and he watched as she took in a sharp gulp of air before opening her own door fully, the rush of the cold into the car a rude shock.

"Ready," he agreed, and he stepped out of the car, Alexis doing the same from the backseat.

"Here." Kate opened the trunk and handed them their overnight bags, before slinging her own over her shoulder. "Let's go."

The creak of the front door was unmistakable, and Rick let Kate go ahead of him, watching as she darted the few yards between the car and the porch, and smiling as she threw herself into the arms of the man silhouetted in the doorway.

"You coming?" she called out, and he followed her over, Alexis in his wake. "Dad, this is Rick, and his daughter, Alexis. Rick, Alexis, this is my dad, Jim."

"Pleased to meet you, Sir," Rick said, offering his hand and beaming as he was met with a firm handshake.

"Jim," Kate's dad insisted. "Come on in. It's too cold to be standing around out here, and you can tell me just why you're up here instead of down in the city celebrating the holidays."

Kate chuckled, a wry expression on her face, and Rick reached for her, his hand resting on the small of her back for just a moment before pulling away. "I, uh, called Rick, and, well." She rolled her eyes as she spoke to her father. "Rick here, and Alexis-" she reached out for his daughter, pulling her into a gentle hug- "insisted on us driving up here to make sure you were okay."

Jim nodded, flipping the porch light off and making his way over to the fireplace. The embers were dying, and he threw another couple of small logs onto them, stoking it up. "Take a seat then, Rick and Alexis. And Kate, maybe you can help me in the kitchen?"

* * *

"Is this okay?" Kate murmured as she poured milk and cocoa into the saucepan. "I didn't mean to just show up here."

Jim turned to her, nodding. "Of course, Katie. Of course. I'm so glad you're here. But I didn't mean to worry you. I'm- it's a rough time of year." He shook his head. "Well. I don't have to tell you that, do I?"

"Yeah. Well." Kate bit her lip, her eyes prickling with tears as she caught sight of the bottle of scotch on the counter, half hidden behind the bowl of fruit.

Jim followed her gaze, his gentle smile turning to a grimace as he reached for the bottle, uncapping it, and in a single swift movement, pouring it down the sink.

"Thank you," she breathed, and he nodded, tossing the bottle into the trash, before reaching for mugs for the hot chocolate.

"So, Rick," he said, as she poured the drinks and he carried two over, handing them to Rick and Alexis. "How is it that I've been hearing about you since the summer, and this is the first I'm seeing you?"

Kate laughed at the aghast look on Rick's face, smirking when she saw Alexis lift her eyebrows, and she sank onto the sofa beside him, her thigh against his as she wrapped her hands around her own hot chocolate. "He's joking," she said, and Rick nodded, the anxiety in his expression easing.

Jim laughed. "I can tell you care about my daughter." He turned back to Kate, his eyebrows raised. "You okay? Without Ramona?"

She shrugged, and Rick reached a hand out, resting it on her knee, and she exhaled, letting herself relax into his touch. "Not really. But she's okay. I spoke to her before we were on our way up here. Gabe was trying to put her to bed."

Her father nodded, sympathy all over his face before looking at Rick, his eyes dancing with mirth. "Did Katie tell you how I found out about you? The way Ramona recognized you on one of her books?" He cleared his throat. "To think, you lined up for one of his book signings all those years ago."

"Really?" Rick exclaimed, and Kate narrowed her eyes at her father.

"Come on," she said. "Dad! He's got a big enough head as it is, it's bad enough he even knows I read his books."

"But _Katie_," Rick teased. "Did you tell your dad about _Nikki Heat_?"

"Don't _Katie_ me!" she warned, but her dad sat up straighter, his eyes back on Rick.

"Who's Nikki Heat?"

* * *

"So you lined up for one of my book signings?" he asked as soon as she closed the door behind them, and she hesitated to answer, crossing the room to switch the bedside lamp on, as he flipped the overhead light off.

"Um." She lifted a shoulder in response, her cheeks warming as she made the confession. "Yes."

Rick's face lit up, his grin wide as he stepped toward her, closing the gap between them, his strong torso flush against hers, his hands skimming her waist. "What did I write in your book?"

She leaned into him, nuzzling his neck as she answered. "You just signed your name."

"Really? When was this, again? Because I went through a whole phase of writing long messages, and-"

She laughed, stopping his rambling with the light press of her lips against his. "You were lovely, very generous with your time. But I was buttoned up, literally and figuratively, and to be honest, you were a lot more attentive to the crowd who wanted their chests signed."

"Oh. That." He shifted, rocking back on one of his feet, abashed.

She laughed. "It doesn't really matter now, does it?"

"No, I guess not." He smirked, looking around the small room. Kate had blushed when her dad had informed them, his tone matter of fact as he'd laughed at her discomfort, that Alexis could have her old room, because he'd cleared out the third bedroom, and that she and Rick could take that one. She'd nodded, too mortified to speak because sharing a bed with Rick - for the _first time_ - had _not_ been something she'd given a moment's thought to the whole drive up here.

He smiled again, his lips brushing against her forehead, then her mouth.

Here and now; timing wise, their whole relationship had been balanced precariously from the moment they'd met. Kate choked back a laugh; and now this was happening, like this. Unplanned, unpredicted and oh so very welcome, in the tiny third bedroom, half their family just a few doors up the hall.

This was happening.

Thigh to thigh, hip to hip. But with jeans and underwear and belts between them, not at all close enough. She inhaled, pulling her head back, her hips rocking into his, dangerously near to crossing the line that they'd carefully erected over the last few months. With another sharp intake of air she bit her lip before diving in, crashing her mouth against his.

Slow.

They'd done slow.

From the first moment of their first meeting they'd tamped down the spark between them, denied it and fought it.

Kate smiled into Rick's mouth as he returned her kiss.

She slipped her hand into his and she tugged him toward the bed, sinking onto the mattress, letting him lay her down. His mouth left hers, finding purchase on her throat and she moaned, dropping his hand. With both of hers, she brought them to his pants, fumbling with his belt and fly. Her heart pounded as - at last - she palmed him. His breath stuttered, coming in jagged, fast rasps, even as his own hands crept beneath her shirt and under her bra.

To hell with _slow_.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you guys for your reviews last chapter, they all meant a lot. x Thanks Jamie and Kylie for being a crack beta team! x**


	17. Chapter 17

**December 2009**

Kate stretched out, tensing her muscles. Savoring the release, she relaxed, and, shifting a little further over in the bed, she collided with-

_Oh._

She brought a hand to her mouth to temper the giggle that rose in her chest. Memories from last night flooded her as she turned to look at Rick, his face still slack with sleep, the covers slung over his waist. Her cheeks warmed and the laugh that had been building escaped as he rolled over, the blankets slipping down a little further, revealing his ass.

Last night. Wow. She grinned, biting her lip as she stared at him. Yeah. To hell with slow.

"Hey," she whispered, dropping her mouth to his ear. "Rick. Wake up."

She watched as he came back to consciousness, his eyes flickering open and closed, before flying open again. His jaw dropped as he focused on her. "Kate?" he asked, and she nodded. "What time is it?"

"It's nine," she told him. "And my dad and Alexis are up. I can hear them in the living room."

It was Rick's turn for his cheeks to color, and she grinned as he flushed pink, a groan coming from his mouth. "Oh, God. Walk of shame in your dad's cabin."

"Mmmhmm," she grinned. "Only, not really. I mean- I don't think my dad has an issue with you being here, you know? And Rick? Thank you."

He grinned. "Well, thank _you_," he said, wiggling his eyebrows, and she shook her head.

"Not like _that_," she said. "For bringing me here. Forcing me to find a new way to celebrate Christmas."

"You're welcome," he said. "And I intend to _celebrate_ with you a _lot_, from now on."

"I hope so," she whispered, ducking her head, and he chuckled, a low throaty sound. He reached for her, pulling her toward him, and she inhaled as their skin met, the touch an unexpected reminder that it wasn't just Rick who was lying here without a stitch; she, too, was naked, and as his thigh pressed between her legs a sudden _need _roared through her.

"Do we have time?" he asked, and she shook her head.

"Not for what I want to do," she said, regret coloring her words. His jaw dropped as she forced herself to pull away from him, standing and smirking as she fastened her bra, before reaching for the clean underwear inside her overnight bag.

"Killing me here, Beckett," he groaned, and she bent down, pressing her lips against his mouth.

"I'll make it up to you when we get back to the city."

**January 2010**

Kate turned the faucet off and reached for a towel, wrapping one around her hair - it was getting long, and the tendrils that had escaped the hair tie were damp - before grabbing another and twisting it around her torso. She stepped over the edge of the bath and padded back into her bedroom to get dressed. Rick slept still, and she gazed at him, envious of his ability to shut out the world.

He'd stirred as she'd pulled herself out of bed but sleep had reclaimed him. His face was sandwiched between the mattress and a pillow, and she fought the urge to tear it from him, pull him into the day with her.

But if he could sleep, he should; she wanted to do this on her own.

She sneezed - for the second time that morning - and dried off, dropping the towel on the floor and stepping into clean underwear. She sniffled again; this run of sneezes - and the accompanying headache - felt suspiciously like the beginnings of the flu, and she shook her head, determined to ignore it.

Kate paused at her dresser, pulling a pair of jeans from a drawer before hesitating at the sight of the jewelry box on her dresser.

She stared at the closed wooden box for a moment before bringing her hand up, shaky fingers sliding the latch open to lift the lid. Four compartments stared back at her, the soft fabric of each one visible beneath a scattering of jewelry; a few pairs of earrings she'd worn while working at the law firm, and a wristwatch, the thin leather band securing a small, square face. Next to that, though, was what she was looking for, and she reached in, plucking her mother's engagement ring from the box.

She slipped it onto her finger; first to the space so recently vacated by her own wedding band, before switching it to the other hand, moving her fingers back and forth, watching as the stone and the delicate filigree caught the light.

That wasn't right either, but putting it back into the box and closing the lid again wasn't the answer. Not anymore. She glanced over at Rick again, his form still solid and reassuring in her bed as he snuffled in his sleep, and turning back to the dresser, she took out a long chain, separating it from the tangle of necklaces.

She unclasped it, slipping the ring from her finger to thread it onto the chain, and, using both hands, she secured it, pulling it over her head. She closed her palm around it for a second before releasing it and looking into the mirror at her reflection. The ring rested on her chest, between her breasts, and her lips curled up into a smile.

For the life she lost. It was time to start living, and that meant making things right, starting today.

* * *

The icy rain needled her face, her umbrella twisting itself inside out, and she swore, jumping over a puddle at the entrance gate. The New York winter was brutal with its Arctic winds and today's deluge of rain, and it matched the cloud that had hovered over her for far too many years.

Kate sloshed across the grass, her gloved hands gripping the daisies she'd picked up at the florist closest to her apartment; already wilted from the downpour, they were a pathetic addition to the roses that she could see her father had left yesterday; he'd surprised her earlier in the week by asking if Ramona could visit with him today. "Keep my mind off things," he'd said. "She keeps me busy."

"A sleepover?" Ramona had asked.

Kate had shrugged, exchanging a glance with Jim, who had nodded and agreed, much to Ramona's delight.

Kate shivered as she pulled up her sleeve to check the time; it was still only nine in the morning, and Kate pulled one of her gloves off, pressing a kiss to her fingertips and brushing her fingers against the stone.

_Vincit omnia veritas_.

Truth conquers all.

She smiled, even as the sight of the engraved dates brought a rush of tears to her eyes. It had taken some time, but together with Rick, she was finding her truth.

* * *

Rick leaped up at the sound of the key in the lock. Kate had insisted on going to the cemetery alone - which he understood - but she'd left before he could make her a coffee this morning. She certainly wasn't coming home and remaining caffeine free a second longer than she had to.

"Rick?" she called, as the door creaked open, and he grinned, pouring the coffee grounds into the portafilter.

"In here," he said, turning and frowning as she made her way through into the apartment, discarding a broken umbrella in the trash before brushing a light kiss on his cheek. "You okay?"

She shrugged, water dripping from the ends of her hair as she leaned against the counter, wrapping her hands around the cup of coffee he passed her. "Thank you."

She took a sip and he watched as she hunched over the cup, the steam rising in her face.

"I can't believe I have to go out there again to collect Ramona," she murmured. "It's… awful."

"I can tell," he said, opening the bedroom door and walking through to the bathroom, grabbing a towel. He brought it back into the kitchen, and she stepped forward, letting him wrap it around her shoulders. "You wanna take a shower?"

"Do you just want to get my clothes off?" she teased, and he wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"Hey, I just want you to be warm," he protested, his hand making its way to her waist and sliding under her sweater. "And I don't want you to get sick."

She laughed, plucking his hand from her waist and bringing it to her lips for a second before dropping it and taking another sip of her coffee. "I'm already sick," she admitted, sniffing, and he took a step back, taking her in with narrowed eyes. What he'd taken to be cheeks pink from the cold were, at second glance, just a little too flushed. Her eyes were glassy, and her nose red.

"Shit, Kate." He brought a hand up to her forehead, and she listed into him. "You're burning up."

"I'm okay," she insisted. "Just need to chase this coffee with some Advil, and I'll be good."

"No, no, wait. Where's your thermometer?"

She shrugged. "Don't have one," she hedged, backing away from him, and he shook his head.

"No way. Beckett, I was here when Ramona was sick last month. I know you have one."

"Um," she hedged. "In the bathroom cabinet?"

"You shouldn't have gone out this morning," he said as he headed back through the bathroom to find the thermometer and Advil.

"I had to."

"Okay. But you could have always taken the car service, or a cab, at least."

"The subway's easier," she said, and he heard her sneeze as he fumbled around, looking through the drawers.

"Stop looking at all my stuff," she complained, and he turned to see her leaning against the door frame between her bedroom and the bathroom, shivering.

"You're freezing," he pointed out, and she nodded, rubbing her hands together.

"It really didn't hit me until I got home."

"Okay. Well, you're back now. A-ha!" His hand closed around the box of Advil, and he filled the glass beside the sink, carrying it over and handing it to her before popping two of the pills from their foil casing onto her palm.

She put them in her mouth, following them with a sip of the water and a grimace, and he took the glass from her, placing it on the dresser before walking her into the bedroom, his resolve firm as he nudged her onto the bed.

"Come on," he urged her, tugging her sweater over her head and unbuttoning her jeans. "Go back to bed for a bit."

"Mmm…" She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, and he grinned, meeting her hazel eyes. How had he gotten so lucky? "What would _Nikki_ do, if she was sick?"

"Nikki would let _Rook_ take care of her," he lied as she pulled her own tank top off, and he tilted his head to the side, taking in the ring resting between her breasts. "What's…"

"Oh." Her hand closed around it, and she held it up so he could see it in the light that filtered through the window. "It was my mom's," she said, her voice soft, and he pulled the covers down so she could slip between the sheets.

"It's beautiful," he said, and she nodded, her eyes still on the ring. "I'll let you sleep for a bit, okay?"

"Wake me when it's time to get Ramona?" she asked, and he shook his head.

"I can get her," he reminded her. "I know where your dad lives. So if you're asleep, I'm not going to wake you."

She nodded, her eyes closing. "Thank you," she whispered.

He laid his own cool hand on her forehead again, pressing a tender kiss to her hairline. "Always." He stood up, walking toward the door, her small voice calling after him.

"Stay? Until I fall asleep?"

"Of course." He turned back, sinking down onto the bed, his arms wrapping around her. She shifted in his embrace, wriggling so her back was flush with his front, and he lifted his hand, stroking it through her hair; her skin was clammy and he swept the strands out of the way, feathering kisses onto the back of her neck. "Sleep, Kate."

* * *

Kate stirred when the sound of the door opening infiltrated her sleep, and she thrashed around for a second before forcing her eyes open, the morning coming back to her.

The ring. The cemetery. Her fever. Rick.

"Mommy!" came Ramona's cry from the living room, and she chuckled as she heard Rick's gentle admonishment.

"Mommy's sleeping," he reminded her, but the thud of her daughter's footsteps hurried across the living room and she burst through the doorway, leaping onto the bed.

"Mommy?" she asked, and Kate rolled over, reaching out for her.

"Come here, Baby. Mommy's just taking a nap."

"Mommy, you sick?"

"Uh-huh. Little bit," she confessed, and Ramona stared at her, her face set, lips pursed.

"Remember what we talked about?" Rick asked, and she felt the bed dip as he situated himself on the edge.

"Oh!" Ramona grinned, pressing her little hand to Kate's forehead. "Hot," she announced, turning to Rick and he nodded.

"So what do we do now?"

"Water." Ramona scrambled off the bed, and Rick followed her into the bathroom. She heard them fumble with the taps, a soft whisper, and a triumphant giggle before Ramona made her way back into the bedroom, both hands wrapped around the glass in an iron grip.

Rick handed her two more Advil, and she swallowed them down with the water. Ugh. Her throat was like razorblades.

"Want to tell Mommy what we did on the way home from Grandpa's?" Rick asked, and Ramona nodded, clambering back up onto the bed and curling into Kate, while Rick took a seat on the armchair.

"Soup and lemonade!"

"Soup and lemonade?"

"Tell her the whole story," Rick urged, and Kate smiled at him before turning back to Ramona, running a hand through her hair.

"It rained and rained," Ramona started, and Kate chuckled.

"It hasn't stopped, hmmm?"

"Nope!" Ramona shook her head. "And the subway and the shop. The umbrella went… whoosh!" She demonstrated with her hands, and Kate laughed.

"Inside out?" she asked. "Mine did that too."

"Uh-huh." Ramona grinned over at Rick. "And Rick did get soup for you."

"Why did we decide to get soup?" he asked and Ramona squealed in delight.

"Because soup for sick people." She poked Kate in the chest with her little index finger with delight. "You!"

Rick chuckled. "Shall we go fix the soup for Mommy, and then let her sleep some more?"

"Yes!"

Rick stood, leaning down to press a kiss to Kate's forehead. "You feel a little cooler," he said. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay," she said, surprised it wasn't a white lie; she _was_ okay. Her nose was stuffy, and her throat burned, but she didn't know the last time someone had looked after her like this when she was sick.

She watched Ramona trail Rick out of the room, warmth in her heart, as she counted backwards. It was January, and they'd been together since… the summer? The dates swirled in her mind. _Properly_ together since Christmas, and she bit her lip, smiling at _that_ memory.

It was January now, and her divorce had begun last April; the procedures were nearly complete. Her grin widened as she shifted in the bed, tilting her head so she could see Rick lift Ramona onto a chair, holding her steady so she could help with the lunch they'd brought home.

She was nearly free.

And that man in the kitchen? She'd hated everything he represented when she'd met him last year, stirring up trouble and waking sleeping demons as he'd sipped coffee opposite her, asking about her mom. Now, though, she couldn't imagine life without him; he was more of a _partner_ than her ex-husband had ever been.

* * *

**A/N: I didn't get to thank hardly anyone individually this time, I'm sorry. It's a long, complicated and boring story involving sitting in a corridor at work and living in a construction zone at home... Thanks Kylie and Jamie, for beta-ing, as always, and also for listening to my tales of woe about said corridor and construction.**


	18. Chapter 18

**January 2010**

"Are you here to work another case with us?" Esposito smirked as Kate made her way through the bullpen, and she grinned back, pulling Ryan's chair over to his desk to perch on it, her gaze drawn toward the murder board.

"No. Unless you need my help?" she teased as she drank in the details before her, and the detective chuckled. "I'm just waiting for Rick. I told him I'd meet him here after I took Ramona to daycare."

"He and Ryan are just processing someone now." Esposito shrugged. "Well, Ryan is. I don't know what your boy's doing. I don't think they'll be much longer."

Kate laughed. "A person of interest in this case?" she asked, jabbing her thumb in the direction of the board, and Espo nodded.

"Uh-huh. Brother of the vic."

"And you're processing him? Not…"

"Not gently sitting him down and telling him his brother is dead? No. We did that yesterday. Today, the evidence led us back to him." Esposito shrugged, turning from the board to face Kate. "But we're cutting him loose. We interviewed him, and nothing's sticking."

"Why would he kill his own brother?" Kate stared at the victim's photograph, front and center on the board. "What did Jack Coonan do that made his own brother take his life?"

"Nothing, far as we can tell. Because he didn't. But we can link the brother to drugs." Esposito sighed. "We hoped Dick Coonan could shed a little more light, but we don't have the evidence for the drug trafficking right now." Kate nodded. Not every case could be tied up in a neat bow. "But hey, if you wanna go make yourself a coffee while you wait for Castle, you know where the break room is."

"Thanks." She stood up, casting a last look at the white board. What had Jack Coonan been into?

Kate walked into the break room; caffeine right about now would be perfect. Much as Rick usually claimed the precinct's coffee was the stuff ulcers were made of, she would take her chances. She pulled a clean cup from one of the shelves, picking up the pot and pouring the liquid in. But this wasn't the rich aromatic beverage that her machine delivered, and okay, maybe Rick had a point. Creamer and sugar aside, there was a severe lack of the flavorings she'd come to love, and she took a hesitant sip, wrinkling her nose before holding the cup away from herself and pouring it down the sink. No, thank you.

"I might skip it," she called to Esposito as she exited the break room. New plan. Coffee from the cafe across the road. She could bring one up for Rick. "If Castle finishes up, tell him I'll be back in a minute."

"Uh-huh." Esposito's attention was back on his desktop, and she grinned, waving at Captain Montgomery as she passed his office on the way back to the elevator.

"Kate!"

"Rick! Hey!" She turned around, beaming as she came face to face with her boyfriend and Ryan, and whomever they were escorting to the elevator._ Oh_. Their person of interest. Dick Coonan.

"Well, well, well," Coonan said, looking her up and down, a knowing grin on his face. Ryan pressed the call button, and the doors slid open. "I know you." He stepped inside the elevator. "I should have known little Katherine Beckett would become a cop. Avenging your mom's murder, I suppose, one bad guy at a time."

The doors closed, and Kate was left staring after him as Rick rounded in on her, his hand clutching at her arm. "Kate? Do you know him?"

She shook her head, her eyes still glued on the metal doors. "I've never seen him before in my life."

* * *

"As far as I know my mom's murderer is in jail," Kate said, and Esposito nodded, swinging his chair around to his computer and tapping at the keyboard.

"Yeah. That's what the file said," Rick interjected, and Kate nodded, remembering. He'd seen it, back when he'd started doing research here. Huh. She'd almost forgotten that.

"Okay," Esposito started. "Your mom's case is here. Every precinct holds some records, and your mom's is in the basement. Are you good with me going downstairs and getting it? We can all look through it?"

"Sure." Kate nodded, her gaze fixed on Rick. What the _hell_ had Coonan meant?

"We'll figure this out," he said, his hand resting on her thigh, and she shook her head. Her vision blurred as tears welled in her eyes and she brought her thumb to her mouth, biting down on her nail as she tried to hold the floodgates back. A lone tear escaped though, starting its slow descent down her cheek and she wiped it away with the back of her hand before it could get any further.

"I'll, um…" Ryan looked around, avoiding her eyes, and Rick nodded at him.

"Coffee?" he suggested, and Ryan bobbed his head up and down.

"Yeah. Coffee. I'll get coffee. Meet you back here, when Espo gets back with the file."

"Skim latte, two pumps sugar free vanilla," Rick directed, and Ryan wrinkled his nose.

"Right. That. Okay. Back soon." He leaped up, rushing to the elevator, and Rick raised his eyebrows after him.

"Real cop like," Rick commented, and Kate let out a sigh of laughter as her heart thudded in her chest.

"Yeah, well. He probably didn't expect me to have a meltdown."

"Yeah, maybe. But if this is a meltdown…" Rick shrugged, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Do you want to go hole up in a conference room? We can close the blinds?"

Kate let him take her hand and lead her into the closest room, the door shutting with a soft snick behind them, before she let the tears fall at last, the fat drops spilling from her eyes down her face. "I thought this was… over…" she said, fighting for words. Fighting for air. "They _caught_ the guy."

"Hey. Maybe they did. Maybe Coonan was just talking shit. You don't know," Rick said, wrapping his arms around her, and she let herself sink into his strong frame, taking in a shaky breath.

"Maybe… but he knew me, Rick. He knew about my mom. He recognized me right away."

"Oh. Right."

* * *

"Alright. I pulled the files," Esposito announced as he opened the door, and Kate turned to see Lanie behind him.

"And I was on my way up anyway. Javi asked me to come and look over the M.E.'s report," she said, casting a sympathetic smile Kate's way. "How you holding up, Sweetie?"

"Right. Skim latte with vanilla for you-" Ryan bustled through the door, tray held close to his chest, handing the first cup to Kate. "Regular person coffee for the rest of us. Except- Lanie. I didn't know you were going to be here."

Lanie stared at Ryan, and he shuffled backwards, his eyes darting to the door before falling back on the M.E.

"I mean. I can go back downstairs and-"

"Forget about it," Lanie said. "I don't drink it anyway."

"Alright." Ryan raised his eyebrows at Lanie before shrugging and turning to Kate. "So. Beckett. Tell us what you know?"

Rick pulled a chair out for her, and she sank into it gratefully, wrapping her hands around the cup Ryan had just handed her. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and shuddering at the onslaught of unwelcoming images imprinted on her eyelids. The way Detective Raglan had looked so apologetic as he'd told her and her dad the news. The way her mom had looked laid out in the funeral home, the make-up they'd put on her jarring with her usual soft look. The way her dad had looked at her, all fury and loss, as she'd pried the scotch from his hands the first time she'd found him truly drunk.

She opened her eyes, raising the cup to her lips and taking a sip. The shock of the confrontation was wearing off, and the surge of anger pulsing through her veins was giving her the strength to begin the story. Beside her, Castle rested his hand on her knee, the touch comforting.

"Okay. So we - my dad and I - were supposed to meet my mom, for dinner, at one of our favorite restaurants. She never showed…" Kate swallowed, trying to dissect it as clinically as possible. "We made it home, and there was a detective waiting for us. She… she was in an alley. She'd been stabbed to death."

Esposito nodded, continuing from the notes in the file. "Yep. That's all here. So, from the start, it was written off as random gang violence. No one really looked at any other avenues." He shook his head in disgust. "And then," he flipped a few pages further in the report, "they charged a guy. Someone confessed. More or less walked into the precinct, three months after the fact. The case was already cold." He shrugged at Kate. "You know the rest."

"Yeah." Kate bit down on the inside of her lip, the coppery taste of blood filling her mouth as she broke the tender skin. The rest. She'd fallen into the trap of chasing normality and Jim had found something akin to solace in the bottle. "Yeah. Case closed."

"Case closed," Rick echoed.

"Until today," she whispered, sitting up a little straighter and draining the rest of the coffee. "Can we - I mean, you - look into this? Dig a little deeper?" She met Esposito's eyes first, and he nodded.

"Yeah. No problem, Beckett," he told her, and she smiled. _Beckett_. The boys called her Beckett. She was one of them.

"We'll check out these detectives who ran the case," Ryan added, and beside him, Lanie nodded.

"Oh, Kate," she said, a heavy sigh on her lips as they locked eyes, and Kate swallowed, nodding at her new friend. "I'll take a proper look at the M.E.'s report, okay. I'll take it down to the lab with me, run a few things, get my head around it."

Kate managed a smile, and nodding, she swallowed the fresh flood of tears that were threatening.

"Hey," Rick murmured, leaning into her, pressing his lips to her ear. "We've got this."

* * *

The knock on the door broke the silence, and Kate opened her eyes, her gaze locking with Rick's. Would this visit bring answers, or just more questions? She extricated herself from his arms, feeling the loss of warmth and comfort as she padded over to the door, looking through the peephole to double check who was on the other side. She slid the bolt open at the sight of Lanie, hugging her friend before stepping back and ushering her inside and through to the kitchen table.

"Hey." Lanie regarded her with the same sympathy she'd shown at the precinct earlier, before nodding at Rick and taking a seat opposite him. Kate slid onto the chair at the end of the table, her eyes fixed on the folder in Lanie's hand as the silence between them grew, Lanie apparently loathe to share her findings.

"What have you got?" Kate asked at last, meeting Lanie's eyes, and her friend looked up, nodding as she cleared her throat.

"Okay. I've looked these over and over, and I got a second opinion, and I still don't know what I'm looking at, what I'm seeing here-"

Beside her, Rick reached out, his hand resting on Kate's arm, his thumb brushing up and down.

"Obviously someone went to jail for your mom's murder, but you know, they never found the weapon. Now, I asked Jav- I mean, Esposito, and he said nothing in the confession detailed anything about the weapon used."

"Well… a knife," Kate said, her mind spinning. "She was stabbed."

"Yeah. Well. In my line of work, there are a lot of different knives, and sometimes you can trace them," Lanie informed her. "And in this case, it's been used in several murders. Little fragments from the blade were left behind, every time."

She opened the folder, spreading the files across the table, and Kate swallowed. Five manila folders, and atop them all, a photograph of her mom, smiling from the cover. She reached for it, opening it on autopilot, her eyes widening at the crime scene photographs that confronted her. Her mom… in the alley. She shook her head, flicking through them as bile rose in her throat. Her mom… on the slab in the morgue.

She flipped the file shut, anger flaring and heat spreading through her veins. "Tell me."

"I've gone through a lot of files. I don't know if I've found them all. I probably haven't." She indicated to the paperwork on the kitchen table. "Sweetie, your mom was killed by the same man who killed Diane Cavanaugh, Jennifer Stewart and Scott Murray." She frowned. "Here's the kicker. He also killed Jack Coonan."

"And if Dick Coonan recognized me, he knows who killed my mom."

Lanie nodded, her eyes downcast. "Yeah. Probably. I spoke to Javi about that too. They tried to bring him back in." She paused, tapping her finger on the table. "Kate, right now he's their best lead for the Jack Coonan case too. They went to his place, but he's left town."

* * *

Lanie stood, gathering up the paperwork, except for the copy of Johanna Beckett's file, and squeezing Kate's arm, she walked to the door, letting herself out with a gentle "bye" as Kate closed her eyes, slumping down, resting her head on her forearm.

She swallowed, unable to hold it in any longer, and Rick, beside her, ran steady circles across her back, the rhythmic motion comforting as she felt the dampness from her tears trickling across her cheeks and onto her wrists and the wooden table.

Normality. To move past this. That was all she'd ever wanted, from the day her mom had been found in that alley. She'd wanted to be more than the girl whose mom was killed.

The fear of never moving past her mom's murder had haunted her, and as her father had thrown himself at the bottle, she'd thrown herself at life, pursuing - albeit timidly - to prove to herself that she could be something.

And she had become something. Someone. She had fought, tooth and nail, for every shred of convention in her life. College. Semester abroad. Grad school. Marriage. Baby. Career.

And divorce.

She had fought, only to become someone she didn't recognize.

Random gang violence. There was no moving on from that kind of assault to her own sense of safety. There was no moving on from a shattered belief system. There was no moving on when chance and coincidence had met in a rage, destroying the long held faith that bad things did not happen to good people.

There was no moving on, but she had to find a way to be more than she was.

Conventional hadn't worked.

She unfurled, squaring her shoulders and turning to Rick. He halted his rhythmic circles across her back as she met his eyes, his touch still comforting.

Conventional wasn't falling in love with a famous mystery writer either.

She blinked, shaking her head. Falling in love. When, exactly, had _that_ happened?

And ordinary women didn't become homicide cops.

She smiled at Rick, leaning in and brushing a soft kiss against his mouth, the intensity of the touch a shock as _want_ curled within her, singing through her veins as she captured his mouth with hers.

Everything made sense now; the myths she'd been carrying for the last decade discarded at last. Random gang violence? No. That had _never_ made sense. The newfound certainty that someone had been blackmailed into making a confession pounded in her veins.

Kate pulled away from Rick, her lips curving up in spite of the tears that she knew were still streaked across her face. There was no choice here. Not anymore. She stood up, pushing the chair back across the floor so fast it squeaked in protest against the floorboards.

"Where are you going?" he asked as she stalked across the room.

"My laptop's in the bedroom." She pointed through the open door to where it lay on her bed. "I have to check out what NYPD forms I need to complete so I can sit the next Academy entrance exam."

* * *

**A/N: And with that I'm officially over the 50k word challenge of Ficathon. Thanks, you guys, for reading and joining me on this fun AU journey! We've still got another few chapters to go! Thanks Jamie and Kylie for editing this one! x**


	19. Chapter 19

**April 2010**

Kate pulled the mail from the letter box, sorting through it and tossing the junk into the trash can before slamming the little door shut and twisting her key in the lock to close it, her hands shaking as adrenaline flooded her system.

Two envelopes.

Two return addresses.

She stared at them, frozen now that this moment was finally here, unable to move a muscle. What if something had gone wrong? What if one - or both - of them was something else?

The slam of the building's door behind her startled her out of her trance, and she whirled around to watch her neighbors rush up the stairs, glancing once more at the paperwork in her hands before following them up, one foot after another until she made it back to her own apartment.

"Hey. Everything okay?" Rick called as she stood in her doorway, her gaze glued to the letters in her hand.

"Um. Yes?"

"Mommy!" Ramona screeched. Kate she forced herself to relax, closing the door behind her. Taking cautious steps into the kitchen, she placed the letters on the table.

"Kate?"

"Mommy, watch me!" Ramona demanded, and she huffed out a laugh, turning to watch her daughter jump, twisting in what she could only suppose was a dance move? Or… well. She had no idea. "I'm spinning!"

"You sure are," she agreed, raising her eyebrows at Rick, and letting her daughter cuddle into her once Ramona had spun her way across the room.

"Are you okay?" Rick asked again, and she nodded, biting down on her lip.

"Yeah. I, uh- got mail." She tilted her head, indicating to the envelopes on the table.

"And…?"

"And… I haven't opened them yet."

"What…?" Rick made a face, confusion spreading across his features. "What are you waiting for?"

She lifted a shoulder in response, a half shrug. "I don't know? What if…"

"It's only going to be good news," he said. "Go on. Sit down. I'll make the coffee. Unless you want to open them by yourself?"

She shook her head taking a seat at the table. Ramona clambered into her lap as Rick situated himself at the machine, making the coffee and steaming the milk. He carried three mugs to the table - coffee for himself and Kate, the third mostly froth and a sprinkling of chocolate for Ramona - and sat down next to her.

"Go on," he urged. "Open them."

Kate reached around Ramona to pull the first one toward her. This one she'd been expecting since last week; her lawyer had called to let her know everything was complete. She slid a fingernail under the edge, lifting the flap and pulling the paperwork out, a smile spilling onto her lips as she read the words.

_Divorce Finalized_.

Rick grinned at her, and she closed her eyes, nodding.

She was officially a free woman.

"Now the other one," Rick said and she made a face at him.

"Stop rushing me," she complained, taking a sip of her coffee and staring at the second letter. The last two months had been a whirlwind of exams and testing and medicals as she'd rushed headlong into her application. This was it. The moment of truth.

"What's that?" Ramona chirped, finishing her own drink and fixing her attention on the papers in front of them.

"Okay," Kate said. "Let's see, shall we?"

She opened the second envelope, pulling the letter out, its words swimming before her eyes.

_Congratulations._

_Katherine Houghton Beckett._

_NYPD._

_Accepted._

_Recruit Officer in the Police Academy._

She pushed the letter toward Rick, pressing a kiss against Ramona's hair and watching as a grin spread across his face.

"Kate!" he exclaimed, his eyes shining, and she grinned back at him.

"I know." She bit her lip, pride surging through her. "I have to tell my dad now."

"What, Mommy?" Ramona asked again, and she beamed at her daughter.

"We're celebrating, that's what!" Rick declared, and Kate laughed.

"Mommy's going to be a Police Officer," she whispered to Ramona, and Rick let out a whoop of joy.

Ramona looked from Kate to Rick and back again, confusion on her little face. "Mommy, police?"

"Uh-huh." Kate nodded, as Rick rushed to explain.

"Mommy's going to the Police Academy to learn how to catch the bad guys!"

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" Rick asked, and she shook her head.

"No, I have to do this by myself."

He dropped his gaze for a second, unconvinced, before meeting her eyes again. She'd been quiet the whole way over here, chewing on her fingernails and staring out the cab window while Ramona chattered on. "Because Alexis is here, and my mother, and I'm sure they'd be fine with Ramona if you need me-"

"Yeah, we'd be fine," Alexis agreed, crowding in on them, her eyes wide and sincere. "Ramona and I will be fine, won't we?"

Ramona nodded, beaming at his daughter. "Alexis, we watch movies?"

"Sure we can," Alexis agreed. "How about The Lion King."

"Lion King!" Ramona cheered, grabbing Alexis' hand and dragging her toward his office without a second glance back at Kate.

"Bye, Sweetie," Kate called, rolling her eyes at her daughter's back. "Be good for Alexis."

"See!" Rick tried again. "They don't even need me. I can come with you, help you explain everything."

She shrugged, her gaze uneasy as she leaned back against the closed front door, and he swallowed at the sight of her exposed neck as she tilted her head up, focusing on the ceiling.

"No," she said at last. "No. When I was nineteen and told my dad I wanted to be a cop… it wasn't pretty. I just… I don't want you to see that, okay? I think… I think I'm going to hurt him." She broke off, and he sighed as he saw the unshed tears welling in her eyes. His heart ached for her, and, stepping forward, he brushed his thumb across her jaw, pressing his lips to hers.

"Thank you. I know you want to help, be there for me." She smiled, standing up straighter, her mouth meeting his again as her tongue sought entrance, teasing before she pulled away from him, and he smothered the moan that was begging for release. "You and me, we'll celebrate this weekend, okay? But first, I'm going to go tell my dad everything."

* * *

"Hey, Katie."

Jim stood up as she walked into the diner, giving her a warm hug before sitting back down.

"Hey." She slid into the seat opposite him, unsure of just what to say now she was here. Around them, the drone of the lunchtime crowd bustled, and she watched as waitresses hurried between tables, carrying food and clearing plates. Her own stomach rumbled, but her hands shook with nerves.

The idea of eating was nauseating.

"So what have you been up to?" her dad asked. "You said you had some news."

"Uh... yeah."

Jim's face fell, the smile replaced by a cautious frown. "Not good news?"

"Hmmm... Let's get coffee." She caught the waitress' eye and waved the woman over. "Two coffees, please."

Jim stared at her expectantly, and Kate threw a troubled glance back at the door, wishing she could skip through this, walk out of the diner, the conversation done. How was she going to explain everything to her dad? Being accepted to the Academy was one thing, but how did she tell a newly sober man that his wife's murder was, after so many years, once again officially unsolved.

"And where's Ramona?"

Kate laughed at the way her father's eyes lit up at the mention of his granddaughter. This time last year she'd been hesitant about letting Jim even be around Ramona. Last summer had changed everything for them. "She's with Rick, actually," Kate said. "He and Alexis are watching a movie with her at the loft."

"You did good," Jim replied, grinning. "I bet Ramona just loves Alexis."

Her eyes danced in memory, a smile tugging on her lips. Her father had been quite taken, not just with Rick, but with his daughter when they'd joined him upstate at Christmas.

"Yeah. She does." Kate leaned back in the booth. She would start with the good news, break this up into manageable pieces. "So Rick and I are going to the Hamptons tomorrow, for the weekend. He has a place there."

"Oh yeah?" Jim smiled. "Things are getting serious between the two of you, huh? So what brought the trip on? He came up to the cabin and now he wants to show you his place?"

"Yeah. I guess... yeah." Kate looked down, repressing her grin. There was no guessing about it. Things were getting serious; things had been getting serious since the day she'd met him if she was going to be completely honest with herself.

The smile spilled onto her face, and she watched her father's expression light up in kind.

Sitting at her kitchen table this morning and staring down at the two letters - at the words that told her she'd made it - had lifted a weight from her that she hadn't even known she was carrying.

The fear of remaining adrift, purposeless. The fear of sinking, not swimming. The fear of never bringing this to rest, of injustice prevailing. It was gone and she had a fighting chance now, to solve her mother's murder. For her mom, for her dad. And for herself.

"Yeah," she said, her words deliberately low as she fought to keep her voice even. "We're getting serious... and I have two weeks free before I... start."

"Start?"

"Uh-huh." Kate twisted her fingers together in a tight knot. "Well, you know, my temp job ended and I didn't try and get the contract renewed, because I decided to stop practicing law."

Her dad angled his head, eyes never leaving hers.

"I applied for something new... and, well, remember when Mom first died... and I had it in my head that I wanted to be a cop? I wanted a job that meant something?"

Jim sucked a loud breath in, dropping his gaze and studying the table before him. Their waitress returned, placing two coffees in front of them. "Yeah." He cleared his throat. "About that. I talked you out of it. I know I did. And for what it's worth now, I'm sorry. You… I shouldn't have stopped you."

"You are?" Kate jerked her head up, staring at Jim in surprise. "Really?"

"Really. I mean, I know you're a great lawyer, but..." He trailed off. "Just seems like you could have been a great cop, too."

Kate raised her eyebrows, bringing her thumb to her mouth and gnawing on the nail to buy herself a second more time. "That's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Talking you out of becoming a cop?"

"You didn't talk me out of becoming a cop. Not really. You know that right?"

"I-"

"I let you talk me out of it. Because when they caught the guy..." Her cheeks warmed and she dropped her eyes in shame. If she had fought for this back then it would probably already be over.

"Hey..." Jim smiled, patting Kate's hand. "It's okay. It's over now."

She indicated no, pressing her lips together as her fingers gripped his. "Not exactly."

"What aren't you telling me?"

She shrugged, squaring her shoulders. Time to do this. "While I've been seeing Rick-" At that, Jim's mouth curved up into a knowing smile. "He's been... consulting. With the NYPD."

"And writing a book about you?" Jim smirked.

Kate rolled her eyes and continued. "Yeah. And _that_. But... I've been to a couple of scenes with him, and the detectives he works with. And... you know what? I remembered. How much I wanted to join the NYPD."

Jim grinned, understanding flooding his features, and he leaned his head against the back of the booth. "And you've decided it's not too late."

"Yeah. I have. I, uh... I applied. And I've... been accepted. I start at the Police Academy for a six month training program, in two weeks."

"Wow." Jim nodded, his eyes gleaming. "I'm... I'm proud of you, Katie. I... Really am. And she would be too."

Kate blinked. "Really? You're okay with this? I thought you would try to talk me out of it."

"No. I tried that. Ten years ago. And it didn't work. If you want this... I'm not gonna lie and say the idea of you being out there doesn't scare me, but I'm proud of you."

"Thank you." Kate's head dipped for a moment, her teeth capturing her lower lip as she inhaled, readying herself to divulge the rest of it. "Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"There's something else. The guy who confessed to mom's murder? He was blackmailed. He didn't do it. Mom's case has been reopened."

* * *

**A/N: Thank you everyone, for your support last chapter! x**


	20. Chapter 20

**April 2010**

"What, _exactly_, did your mother say?"

"When I told her I was coming up here with you for a romantic weekend?"

"Yeah. I mean… how did you get from _romantic weekend_, to… 'see you two tomorrow'?"

Rick winced, throwing her an apologetic look before glancing in the rear view mirror. Kate in turn, twisted; Ramona was sacked out in the car seat they'd bought this afternoon, her head sprawled to the side in what _had_ to be an uncomfortable angle.

"She said, and I quote: 'Really, Darling, how romantic can it be with a small child there?' And then she told me that she and Alexis would be there tomorrow, that she really couldn't come tonight, because she had _plans_." He screwed up his face in disgust. "And then I told her that I didn't want to know, and then you got there, and, well… she sailed out the door, and… ew." He shuddered. "I don't want to know if my mom is dating!"

Kate shook her head, trying to hide her amusement. "She's right about one thing, I guess… I mean… it will be easier with Alexis there. The way Ramona follows her around."

Rick nodded, grinning. "Yeah. I think the adoration is mutual." He flicked the indicator on, and moved over to the right hand lane, exiting the main road at the next turn.

Kate glanced around again. With any luck Ramona would still go down easily tonight, in spite of the long sleep in the car.

"So I called ahead," Rick said. "I thought we could make something simple for dinner, like pasta."

"And you had to call ahead?" Kate smirked.

"Yeah. I got my guy to make sure there was food in the house."

"Right." She rolled her eyes. Her parents had had money, and she and Gabe had both been lawyers, but every so often she was taken aback by the kind of wealth that Rick had. "And-" She fell silent as he dropped a gear, slowing as he turned into a side street, her eyes widening as she took in the houses out the window. Wealth. Yeah, okay. When Rick had said he had a place in the Hamptons she'd figured on it being impressive, but this was something else. He pulled up into a driveway, cutting the engine and indicating to the house with a nod.

"This is it."

"It's… Wow, Rick. It's amazing"

He shrugged. "Come on. Let's get Ramona inside, and I'll give you the tour."

"Here?" Ramona piped up from the backseat, and Kate smiled at the sound of her sleepy voice.

"Yes, we're here, Honey."

* * *

"Watch me!" Ramona cried, and Kate watched her throw herself from the edge of the pool into the water and into Rick's waiting arms.

"Wow, Sweetie! Good jumping!"

"I did jump!" Ramona exclaimed, scrambling from Rick to swim across to Kate, splashing gleefully.

"You sure did," Kate said, the water just past her waist. Ramona clung to her, and she leaned back against the tiles, taking in their surroundings. The heated pool was blissful, the landscaping enclosing it just beautiful. The sound of the water lapping gently at the sides could be heard alongside the crashing of the waves from the beach just a few hundred yards away. The evening air held the promise of spring, and the sea breeze was a welcome respite from the haze of the city.

In her arms, Ramona wrapped a hand around her neck, her skin cool, and Kate sighed. Maybe she should have insisted Alexis come with them tonight; she could have asked the teenager to take Ramona upstairs, bought just a few minutes alone with Rick. Because the way he looked right now, his chest broad and strong - and more to the point, bare - in the water… damn.

"Come on, Ramona. Time to have a warm shower, and get tucked up in bed."

"Don't wanna," Ramona mumbled, but she could feel her daughter growing heavier in her arms as she listed against her.

"Come on," Kate said again, walking up the stairs, and across to the pool chairs that their towels were on, wrapping her daughter up in one before picking up her own robe. "Tomorrow we can swim again, with Alexis."

* * *

"Did she go down okay?" Rick asked as she made her way into the master bedroom, and she nodded, biting her lip as she looked around. Wow. They'd arrived, gotten Ramona settled in the room across the hall, and Rick had pointed out their room, carrying her things in here. She'd ducked in to grab her bathing suit after dinner, but the lights had been low and she'd dashed right out again, changing downstairs. Now that she had a chance to really look she could see this bedroom was really something else; the bed centered in the room, the fireplace a feature, a heavy anchor amongst the wood.

"Yeah, she did," she said at last. "Rick… this place is incredible."

He grinned. "I only wish we'd been able to get up here before now," he told her. "I've wanted to come up here since… Well, since Christmas, at least."

She smiled, padding across the soft carpet to the bed, where Rick reclined, a book in his hand. "I'm glad we waited," she admitted. "I… didn't want to rush from my marriage into a new relationship, and… well. I didn't want to jump into something."

He chuckled, sitting up, and patting the space on the bed beside him. "Katherine Beckett, you know I think you're extraordinary, right? And if I'd met you, and it had taken us four years to get together, or more… we could have worked with that."

She laughed, lying down on the bed next to him and relaxing into the pillows. "This is better, don't you think?"

"Much," he agreed, tossing the book onto the nightstand, and shifting so he hovered above her. "Much better."

* * *

Rick smiled as he stepped into the shower after her. "Everything okay?" he asked, and she looked at him, her features soft in the glow of the candles on the ledge.

"I'm great, Rick," she assured him, edging under the spray to adjust the water temperature, before leaning back. The water rushed through her hair for a minute, and, now thoroughly drenched, she reached for the shampoo, massaging it through her hair.

He nodded, taking her in. He would never get enough of her. Getting into the pool with her and Ramona had been a special kind of torture as he'd watched her in her bathing suit, the red one piece alluring as she'd swum.

Now, here she was, in his shower, suds running down her back as she turned into the spray, and he swallowed, stepping forward, his fingers reaching for her hair.

"Let me," he suggested, and she dropped her own hands down, reaching around and behind them so they were on his ass while his own fingers ran through the wet strands, washing the last of the soap away.

He pressed his front into her back, his hands falling from her hair to her shoulders and along her torso, before he shifted again so he could lean his head down, peppering soft kisses over the elephant tattoo on her ribcage, his fingers skimming her waist as the water poured over them. He stood up straight as his desire flared, already hard against her rear, and, bringing a thumb to her breast, he ran it across her peaked nipple.

"We just got out of bed," she protested, but her actions betrayed her words as she shifted to give him access, and he brought his mouth to her neck, sucking the tender skin at her throat, his hand falling from her chest to between her legs.

* * *

"Are you ready for the onslaught?" Rick asked as he heard the car in the driveway.

"Ready for the romantic weekend to turn into a family getaway?" She laughed. "I guess I have to be, right?"

He chuckled, closing the gap between them and cupping her jaw in his hand, he kissed her. "At least we had last night," he reminded her, and her eyes darkened as she looked at him from beneath her lashes, her cheeks coloring.

"Yeah." Her voice was husky, and he sighed, his mouth at her ear. If only he could whisk her back upstairs, lay her down again, peel her clothing off piece by piece, and press his mouth to every inch of her perfect skin. She exhaled, her own breathing shaky, and he grinned at the knowledge that she was just as affected by him as he was by her.

"Where's Alexis?" Ramona chirped up from where she was seated at the dining room table, and he laughed as Kate rolled her eyes, stepping away from him.

"She's here now," Kate told her daughter. "Are you finished with lunch? We can go help them get their things from the car." She cast a heated look at Rick, and he swallowed. This woman would be the death of him.

"Go see Alexis!" Ramona jumped down from her chair and tore out of the room toward the front door.

"Guess we'll go see Alexis, and your mother," Kate agreed, her expression wry, and he shrugged, following her to the front of the house, watching in satisfaction as she opened the front door, taking Ramona's hand and stepping outside to greet his family.

"Martha!" Kate smiled as his mom kissed her cheek, before dotting one on the top of Ramona's head. The young girl twirled around Martha before darting away from Kate and barreling into Alexis.

"Well, hey there, Cutie," Alexis said, scooping Ramona up and smiling at Kate.

From the doorway, Rick watched as the women in his life - his family - shower one another with love in their own ways; Kate's reserved smiles, his mother's flamboyant gestures as she recounted the way she'd floored the gas on the open stretch of highway once they'd left the city.

Alexis shook her head at her grandmother's dramatic recount of events. He grinned as she let Ramona scramble out of her arms, and he looked on as the little girl tugged on Alexis' hand, chattering away.

"Well, come on, Darling," Martha said, indicating for Rick to join them, and he pushed off from the door frame, striding toward them, kissing his mother and daughter on the cheek before picking up their overnight bags and swinging them over his shoulder.

He watched as Kate threw an arm around Alexis' shoulders, and his heart swelled with joy at seeing their easy affection.

"Hurry up," his mother instructed, and he nodded as Alexis and Kate walked into the house, following after them, Martha beside him.

"What's the rush?" he teased, and she chuckled.

"Richard, we're here to take care of Ramona so that you and that gorgeous girlfriend of yours can have a proper vacation before she starts at the Academy. If anyone should want to rush, it's you!"

"You meant that?" he asked. "You're really here to mind Ramona, and you don't actually plan to crash our weekend away?"

"Of course." She fluttered her hand, waving away his concerns. "We'll put our things away, and then perhaps I can lay by the pool while Alexis and Ramona swim. Or we can walk into town and get ice cream. Whatever you want, as long as you and Kate enjoy yourselves this afternoon!"

"Oh, that sounds wonderful, Martha, thank you," Kate flashed a brilliant smile at his mother, and his lips turned upward as well.

"Yes, thank you, Mother, Alexis," he said as they made their way up the stairs, and he opened the door to Alexis' room first, before walking further along the hall to his mother's and putting her bag down there.

"Will you be okay with Alexis and Martha?" Kate asked Ramona, but the question was redundant, judging by the beam Ramona offered them in response. "Okay then."

* * *

"This is just beautiful, Rick," Kate said, slipping her hand into his as they strolled along the beach, the waves rushing up to the shoreline, crashing and breaking before they hit the sand, the water edging closer toward their feet each time.

"I love getting away from it all," he agreed, his thumb making small circles on her skin, and she grinned. "It's not as cozy as your cabin in winter though."

"Oh, I don't know," Kate mused. "I think being wrapped up in that bedroom of yours, fire roaring, would be plenty cozy."

"Yeah, okay… We'll have to try it next winter."

Wow. Next winter. Yeah. "Next winter I'll be finishing up at the Academy…"

"No longer a police recruit, but a rookie? Is that how it works?" Rick asked, and she nodded.

"Something like that… lowest on the food chain, in any case."

"Officer Beckett." He turned to her, his eyes darkening with arousal as he stepped closer so that their bodies were flush. The waves lapped at their feet and she closed her eyes, letting the world melt away for a second. "I don't know how I'm going to handle watching you go off to work each day."

"What do you mean?" she asked, and he chuckled, his voice low in her ear as he answered.

"A woman in uniform… Beckett… you have no idea."

"That does it for you, huh?" She pressed tighter against him, feeling just _how much_ the idea did it for him.

"Mmm-hmmm." His lips found her neck and she canted into him, her eyes closing once more as his hands wrapped around her waist. She stood tall, arching onto her tiptoes as she tried to get closer to him, her fingertips skimming his back and making their way under his shirt. "Beckett," he breathed, his mouth on her throat. "I think we need to find somewhere a little more private than the beach."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks K&J... one more, guys! x**


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